From The First Tear Cried
by DragonChild157
Summary: Carbine and Throttle have been a couple for years, but where did it all start?... It all started when one tan gold teenager came home to find his home burned to the ground... Set before the Plutarkian invasion. There WILL be action! Vinnie would be VERRY disapointed if he didn't get to blow SOMETHING up! Multiple somethings if possible! And I can't leave dear Modo out!
1. Goes Up In Smoke

So, finally got my metaphorical tail in gear and decided to favor our much beloved bro's with another adventure. I'm not sure exactly how long this story will be, but given past experience, you should proabably strap in and get comfortable. Inspired (and in answer to) The Third Biker Scholar's _Great Romance Challenge_, I now offer up the first chapter for her inspection and approval. And if you haven't read her series of one shots _The First, _you seriously need to! It is made of nothing but epic! :)

Boring disclaimer: I do not own Biker Mice From Mars or their affiliates blah blah blah, you get the point. If I did own them they would still be on the air, or the reboot would've been done by the original artists and would've started up right where the original left off!

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ENJOY!

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"Oh man, I am so late…!"

Throttle put on an extra burst of speed, nearing the edge of the brilliantly colored Martian woods. If he at least _looked_ like he was trying to be on time, maybe he wouldn't be sentenced as harshly!

The tan gold mouse stumbled out of the trees and underlying brush, tripping and nearly falling flat on his nose. He snorted and regained his balance. "Great Throttle! Well done! If you flatten your muzzle back into your skull maybe you can make a play for pity points…"

He trailed off, red eyes widening as he finally took stock of what he was seeing. "..no…"

Smoke was pouring out of the cave that had been his home for almost fifteen years. Furniture lay strewn near the door and down the hill leading up to the cave, having apparently been hurled out the door. There were other things there.

A comb, a shoe, a small stuffed animal…

The winded mouse suddenly broke into a run, panic stricken. Pulling a bandana from his pants pocket, he paused just for an instant at the door to suck in a clean breath of air and tie the bandana over his mouth and nose. Then he plunged into the hot, smoky depths of the cave.

His eyes almost immediately began watering from the smoke as he raced through the flames, frantically searching for any sign life. He searched room after room, desperately calling for someone, _anyone _to answer him.

Kitchen, living room, playroom, her room, _their_ room…

Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was pretty sure that it wasn't just from the smoke. He knew he needed to get out of there, Martian granite tended to emit gasses when set aflame like this. But he kept searching, feeling like he was going to cough up one if not _both_ of his lungs if this coughing didn't let up soon!

But he couldn't leave!

He couldn't walk out of this cave without knowing for a _fact_ that no one was left inside. That he wouldn't be leaving someone behind to burn to death when he walked out that door!

His vision began to swim, and he knew that time was up.

Sobbing, the tan mouse turned and bolted for the door, tripping over broken furniture hidden in the haze of smoke and flame. He had to get out! He was no use to anyone, especially them, if he was dead. Oh god, they had to've gotten out! They just had to!

He wasn't sure if he could go on without them!

Cool air smacked his hot face as he stumbled out into the sunshine, harsh coughs racking his frame as his lungs tried to expel the smoke and gasses he'd inhaled. He could barely make out anything through his watery eyes. His head was reeling, and he was pretty certain he wasn't walking in a straight line anymore. And he really couldn't bring himself to care.

A voice he didn't know was called out to him and he turned. That was a mistake. His foot caught and he tumbled forward, crashing to the dusty red ground of him home planet. Throttle lay there, like one dead or unconscious. He didn't have the strength left to twitch an ear, let alone get back on his feet.

That unfamiliar voice was coming closer. After a moments consideration Throttle decided to let it come. It wasn't like there was much he could do to stop it anyway.

Strong hands slipped under his body and carefully rolled him over.

He starred up through bleary eyes at a mouse with brown fur and long darker brown hair that fell over his shoulder in a pony tail. He vaguely remembered seeing this military mouse around town, but he'd never met him. He was pretty sure the mouse was a general or something like that in the Martian military.

"Kid, can you hear me?"

Throttle gave a weak nod, surprised to discover that he actually _did_ have the ability to move if only _just_.

The older mouse's face showed relief. "Good. You ok kid? Can you tell me what happened?" muddy red eyes glancing at the still smoking entrance to the cave, he added. "Is anyone still inside?"

Throttle's voice finally seemed to break free of its paralysis and shoved its way out of his chest. "I don't know." Throttle sobbed, weakly trying to wipe the tears out of his eyes with a sooty hand and only irritating them worse as he got the grit in them. "I can't find them."

The mouse's grip on Throttle's shoulder tightened as he looked back at the smoking door. It seemed to take him all of a split second to put two and two together about what Throttle had been doing. He gently pulled the teen close, letting the much younger mouse's head rest against his shoulder. "Who kid? Who can't you find?"

"My…My mother." Throttle panted brokenly into the mouse's fur. "And Alexiana…"

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And before there is an uproar of people asking who the hell is Alexiana, let me state quite clearly that she will be explained in the next chapter!

Review please! This story needs some encouragement to get the plot bunnies really hopping!

Until next time...


	2. What Are You Thinking!

Chapter 2 here we come!

Shout out's to the amazing: Miceaholic, and Spades24! I've missed you guys! It's great to hear from you again!

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"I'm fine Mom, _really!_"

Eleanor sat back and gave her fifteen year old daughter a reproving look as she tried to squirm away. "Carbine, let me put this on it, it'll make it feel better!"

Carbine jerked her chin out of her mother's grip, tossing her black hair back out of her face. "Mom, I'll be _fine_! Really! It's just a little bruise, it'll be gone in no time! This is totally unnecessary!"

Eleanor shook her head and went back to trying to rub an ointment into the bruise showing through the fur of her daughters cheek. Giving her squirming daughter's ear a sharp tug as a reprimand, she caught hold of Carbine's chin again. "Falling down all those stairs…It's a wonder all you got was this one bruise on your cheek!"

A knock sounded on the door and one of the servant mice stuck his head through the sliding door. "Ma'am? Stoker's here to see you."

Eleanor smiled. "Oh good! Send him right up!"

The mouse nodded and retreated from the room. He was back a few minutes later, leading two mice behind him. Carbine frowned. She knew Stoker very well, but the teenage male behind him was a stranger. She eyed him curiously.

He was familiar…maybe she'd seen him around town?

He was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt, contrasting nicely with his fur. The tan fur itself had a metallic tint to it when the light hit it, reflecting back gold, she noted with interest. While not exceptionally rare, it was unusual enough to be worth noticing. His hair was a little longer than most males let their hair grow, but it looked good on him.

But it was his eyes though that really set this young male apart.

Red eyes weren't uncommon in the slightest, but they were usually a bright blood color or a muddy brownish red. This mouse had neither. They reminded her of the Martian ruby formations you could find growing in some of the forest canyons. Clear and light, but with a depth to them she found intriguing.

Grinning, Stoker walked straight over and grabbed up her mother, crushing her in a bear hug and swinging her around for good measure.

"Stoker!" Eleanor laughed, swatting at him as best she could. "Put me down!"

Stoker grinned and complied, but not before he pressed an affectionate kiss to her temple. "Don't lie, you enjoyed it." He teased. "Just like when we were kids. Now what's my lil' sis been up to?"

Eleanor rolled her eyes and pushed herself out of his arms, grinning. "Tending to your very accident prone niece at the moment." She answered, gesturing to her daughter, who'd risen from her seat on the couch and was quickly coming to offer her own greetings to her favorite uncle.

Stoker raised his eyebrows. "Again?" he asked his sister before pulling Carbine into a hug. "Hey you little sparkler, you gotta stop beating yourself up you hear?"

Carbine giggled. "All I did was fall down the stairs!"

Her mother crossed her arms. "Both flights." Looking past her brother and her exasperated daughter she seemed to catch sight of Throttle for the first time. The tan furred teen had remained near the door, clearly uncomfortable watching what was clearly a family moment. "Please excuse my brother. He has absolutely no manners whatsoever." She said, the kindness in her voice setting Throttle a little more at ease.

"Huh?" Stoker followed her gaze, flushing in embarrassment when he realized he'd just gone and walked off and left Throttle standing alone by the door. He hurriedly straightened and motioned Throttle in. "Shoot, sorry kid!"

Throttle ducked his head a little, embarrassed as he came to stand beside Stoker, but the shy smile he offered said he was amused.

Stoker grinned, slinging an arm around Throttle's shoulders. "Eleanor, Carbine, I'd like you to meet Throttle! For the foreseeable future he'll be moving in with me. Throttle, this is my sister Eleanor, and her daughter Carbine."

Throttle nodded politely, offering his hand to Eleanor and then to Carbine. "Pleased to meet you ma'am. Miss Carbine."

Carbine made a face. "Please, it's just Carbine."

Throttle shrugged. "Fine by me." He amiably agreed. "Though 'Just Carbine's' kind of a mouthful isn't it?"

Both Stoker and Eleanor burst into laughter. Throttle didn't, but he gave Carbine a small shy smile. She couldn't help it, she laughed along with the others. Unless she was mistaken, she was going to get along very nicely with this shy young male.

"Carbine, why don't you show Throttle around?" Eleanor suggested. "It'll give us adults a chance to catch up on old news."

Carbine smiled and shrugged. "Sure." To her surprise, Throttle looked questioningly to Stoker, as though asking his permission to go with her. Her uncle caught the look and nodded.

Offering up that same shy, uncertain smile, Throttle moved to follow her. "It sounds good to me."

* * *

Brother and sister watched the two teens leave, and the minute the door slid shut behind them Eleanor whirled on her brother. "Moving in with you? What are you thinking, Stoker? You don't know anything about raising kids!"

Stoker sighed, his smile fading. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he pinned her gaze with his own. "I _know_ that Ellie. But I couldn't just…" He shook his head.

Eleanor frowned, clearly there was more to this than just her brother making a superbly bone headed decision. A scent on his clothing drew her attention. "Stoker? Why do you smell like granite smoke?" Her eyes suddenly widened as she put two and two together. "Throttle…Oh god, he's the one isn't he?"

Her brother nodded. "I just happened to be riding by and saw the smoke. The kid doesn't know what happened, he was out on an errand at the time. He just came back and found the cave torched and ransacked." He shook his head. "The kid actually went in there _looking_ for them Ellie! Darn near asphyxiated himself to do it!"

Eleanor sighed and rubbed her eyes. "When word came there'd been a granite fire, Saber went to go help. We heard there were survivors, but no one knew how many or how old." She glanced at the door through which the teens had left. "How bad was it?"

Stoker gave a tired sigh. "Bad. The kid lost almost everything in that fire. They were still working to put it out when we left to bring him in to the hospital here in town. I doubt there'll be much that can be salvaged."

"You only brought_ him_ in to the hospital?"

Stoker shook his head. "He got nothing left Ellie. His home's gone, completely totaled, and we've yet to find his mother and sister. There's a father and brother somewhere, but they left years ago. The kid hasn't seen them since he was six. As far as he knows, there aren't any other living relatives. He's on his own."

Eleanor shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand. "The poor dear." She murmured. "He's a bit of an orphan then."

"I couldn't just turn him over to the orphanage, Ellie. That's no place for him." Stoker growled. "He's a good kid!" he paced away from her and back again, running his hand through his bangs. "I don't know what it is about this kid, Ellie. But I want to help him! So if he needs a place to stay, fine. He can stay at my place."

Eleanor sighed. "Stoker, you know nothing _about_ kids."

Her brother grinned at her. "I deal with the new recruits all the time on base." He answered confidently. "Whatever I don't know I can pick up on the fly. It's worked out alright for me in the past!"

His sister glared up at him. "Stoker! There's a huge difference between _training_ young mice in their twenties for the army and _raising_ a teenager!"

Stoker stopped, giving her a genuinely confused look. "Like what?"

Eleanor threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "Well for one thing with the army you have the comfort of being able to go home at the end of a frustrating day and leave the troops behind at the barracks! You can't do that with a kid! If they're not at school or with a friend they're with _you_."

"So what? I've had roommates before."

"Stoker, it's more than just having a roommate! _Much_ more!" she grabbed hold of her brother's hands, willing him to listen to her. "Kids look to you for _everything_. Everything from the basics of food, clothing, and shelter, to the harder stuff like advice on life altering decisions." She pointed in the general direction Throttle had gone.

"That boy just lost everything. He'll need you more than you can _possibly_ imagine, Stoker. Having kids are a big commitment! Granted, you're getting this boy as a teenager, but you'll still have an effect on him. You're going to have to set the good example!"

Stoker blanched. "That's gonna go well."

Eleanor nodded. "Exactly. It's a big commitment!...Are you sure you're up to it?" she asked, cupping his cheek, her pale cream fur contrasting starkly against his darker pelt.

Her brother shook his head. "I'm not sure Ellie… But I don't really have a choice." He grinned. "For this kid, I really don't _want _a choice!" He flopped down onto the couch Carbine had vacated earlier and gestured grandly to Eleanor. "You're the kid guru, got any advice?"

She laughed, sitting down next to him. "Well, for starters, give him time to adjust. Give _yourself_ time to adjust. A lot of this is new to the both of you."

Stoker snorted. "I doubt I'll need all that long." he stated confidently. "But go ahead."

Eleanor bowed her head to hide a knowing smile. "Maybe... Second, remember that he's grieving. Give him something to keep him busy, but don't push it on him. Just make sure there's something for him to do if he needs a distraction."

Stoker nodded. That much made sense at least. "What about school? Most of the mice living in the cliff face home school their kids, rather than send them through the woods to get to the school here in town."

"I would." She agreed. "He'll have to take a placement test, but I'd give him a week to get settled before throwing him into that."

"Ok. Anything else?"

She smiled. "Take time to get to know him. It's ok to ask questions, but realize that right now you'll probably learn more from observation. There are going to be some questions he won't be ready to answer."

"I'll remember." Stoker promised.

"And you'll know where to find me if you have any questions." She grinned, hugging him. "And who knows, despite your bad influence, he might be ok after all!"

"Oh he might, might he?"

"He just might."

As she squealed and ran away from her brother's tickle attack, Eleanor found herself _exceptionally_ glad her stern-faced husband wasn't home to see this!

* * *

"He's cute Carbine! What'd you name him?"

Carbine grinned at Throttle, cuddling her pet close. She'd shown Throttle around the main areas of the house, and he'd expressed polite interest, but she'd been able to tell that he was bored and had thus moved the tour outdoors.

Now they were settled in the thick reddish orange grass of the garden with her pet. "Berry. Uncle Stoker gave him to me. I'd never had a pet before, and dad wasn't very happy with the idea.… Would you like to hold him?"

Throttle chuckled and nodded. He held out his hand, palm down, holding it within easy reach of the animal. The squirrel bat chattered excitedly and climbed up onto his hand, batting its tail. "We used to have one of these. They're horrible berry thieves aren't they?"

Carbine giggled and nodded. "His first night here he stole my dad blind! Dad said he had to sleep in a hutch out here in the garden after that."

Throttle lifted the squirrel bat up to his eye level. "Nice goin'. No better way to cement yourself in as a member of the family than to steal from the head of it! Well done!" The squirrel bat chattered at him again and he grinned and nodded. "You're welcome!"

Noticing the way Carbine was scrutinizing him, he grinned at her. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Carbine gave a frustrated growl and shook her head. "It's driving me crazy! I recognize your face, but I can't for the life of me remember where I know you from! I don't think I ever saw you in town… Where _do_ I know you from?"

Throttle laughed, scratching Berry's neck and making the squirrel bat chirr in appreciation. "Nope! This is too much fun! You have to figure it out on your own."

"Oh you…!" Carbine laughed, tearing up a handful of grass and pelting him with it.

"See? I told you they'd play nice!"

The two teens looked up to discover Stoker and Eleanor standing on the garden path watching them. Stoker was laughing his head off. Nudging Eleanor with his elbow, he added. "Good thing we got here when we did though, it looked like my _niece_ was going to start something!"

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "Sadly, I can't say that I'm surprised."

"Sorry kid, but it's time we got going." Stoker told Throttle.

Throttle nodded and quietly got to his feet. "Yes sir."

Putting Berry on his shoulder, he offered his hands to Carbine and hauled her to her feet before going to stand beside Stoker. The two women escorted them around to the front of the house, where Stoker's bike waited for them.

"Mount up Throttle!" Stoker called, mounting his bike.

"You're sure the two of you couldn't stay for dinner?" Eleanor asked, anxious for her brother and his new charge.

Stoker gave a half hearted chuckle. "Nah, we best get going. Saber'll be home soon, you know how that goes."

Eleanor sighed. "I know. But that doesn't mean I don't worry about you. About the _both_ of you." She added, including Throttle.

The tan mouse climbed aboard the bike behind Stoker, offering her and Carbine a shy, grateful smile. "I appreciate it ma'am."

Stoker grinned, passing a helmet over his shoulder and pulling on his own. "We'll be fine Ellie, don't worry! What could go wrong?"

Eleanor wrapped her arm around her daughter, both women shaking their heads as they watched the bike roar away into the gathering dusk. "What could go wrong?"

Carbine snorted, wrapping her arm around her mother's waist. "Famous last words…"

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Ha ha! I think I will have fun writing this! Hope you guys liked! And Spades24, here's a coupon for your popcorn tub. Go get a free refill.

See that little blue button down there? Yeah, that one. You know what it does? It make's the updates come quicker! (crosses heart and puts on inocent expression) Honest!

Until next time...


	3. First Time at Base

Here come's the update train! So, be honest, how many people celebrated National Singles Awareness Day in place of Valentines Day this year? (raises hand) And how many people spent their day productively writing fanfiction? (enthusiatically raises hand while mother yells in the background that fanfiction is not productive) I did! Thus this happy little contribution to the fandom today!

Shout out's to the awsome: Spades24, MayaPatch, Rainbowluvr17, Miceaholic, and LadyDaisies! Cookies for all! And Spades24 what kind of Biker Mice fan chooses Dr. Pepper over Root Beer?

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ENJOY!

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Stoker pulled the bike to a stop and cut the motor.

"Well, here we are!" he called over his shoulder, pulling off his helmet and setting it on the bike in front of him.

Throttle slowly climbed off the bike. He pulled his own helmet off, making a face at the pull on his antennas. The helmet was standard military issue, and the design left a mouse's antenna's free to the wind, and normally that would be fine! But it meant that you had to slide your antennas in and out of specific openings.

He'd only had to do it once or twice before, but the tan mouse had already decided it was a pain.

He tucked the helmet under his arm, taking in his surroundings curiously. They were on the outskirts of town, the opposite end to the one that faced the Martian forests and the cliff faces. This side of town looked out on the open, sandy plains.

A hump of red stone stood up out of the sandy soil in front of them, barely big enough to house more than three motorcycles comfortably. A door was embedded in the face of it. Truth be told it looked more like a garden shed than a house. Looking around, it appeared to be the farthest of all the houses to reach out into the plains.

And that was all he could see in the gathering dusk.

"This way." Stoker called, wheeling his bike toward the door. He slid the door open and led the way inside, parking the bike against the wall to one side.

Throttle closed the door behind him out of habit, casting his gaze curiously around the single room home. Apparently, the living style of General Stoker and his sister were entire universes apart!

Where Eleanor's husband General Saber was well off enough to ensure that his family lived in one of the few mouse made homes above ground, and a large one at that, Stoker seemed to either prefer a single cavern cave or was unable to afford better.

It must've been out of preference, the tan mouse decided.

After all, Stoker and Saber were of equal rank weren't they? Surely there wouldn't be a big enough difference in salaries to warrant such a stark difference in living conditions!

It didn't matter though, he thought with a small smile, the only size smile he seemed able to produce any more. And those with a great effort.

If he had a choice between the two living spaces, he would've chosen this one. The house Carbine and her parents lived in was large and roomy, but he'd grown up in a cave in the cliff faces. The thought of living in a home above ground was alien to him.

He didn't know if he'd ever get used to the concept.

Stoker watched Throttle curiously, wondering what the teen was thinking as he looked around the stone room. "Hey." He called, resting his hands on his hips. "You gonna stand there all night or are you going to come inside?" He grinned when he saw the boy's confused look. "Trust me kid, I can do better that a single cavern cave!"

He showed the embarrassed teen a small hidden panel in the rock with a hidden keypad inside and quickly typed in the code. A section in the rock slid to one side, revealing a set of stone stairs leading down into the earth.

He clapped Throttle on the back and trotted down the steps. "Come on in kid, and make yourself at home!"

At the bottom of the steps he quietly shucked his olive green vest and hung it on a peg, clicking a button in the wall to bring up the lights. He smiled as he made his way farther into the living area of his home. While there was certainly nothing wrong with the size of his cave, his brother-in-law Saber would've snorted at the simple furnishings he'd chosen to supply his home with.

But this suited Stoker.

He made his way into the kitchen, his mind already sorting through what food items he had and what would make a good meal. The brown pelted mouse had already pulled out a good sized pot and was digging out a couple of ingredients from a cupboard cut in the stone when boot steps on the stone floor and a quiet clearing of the throat reminded him that he had a guest!

"Can I help?"

Stoker pulled a good sized bag out of the cupboard, mentally cursing himself for having just gone and left the teenager standing there in the living room. He turned, hauling the bag over to the table and set it down with a thud.

Giving the tan furred teen an apologetic smile, he admitted to himself that maybe Eleanor had been more right than he'd thought, this _was_ going to take some adjustment on his part as well!

"Sorry." He apologized, embarrassed. "I've been living alone for years, and I almost never have guests. I sometimes forget how to be a good host."

"It's ok." Throttle waived the apology away. Coming to the table he undid the tie on the bag and carefully lifted it up, holding it poised over the pot Stoker had set out.

Stoker nodded, quickly measuring out the rice like reddish orange grain into the pot. He put in enough to feed two of him, adding a little extra to be on the safe side.

He couldn't remember the actual quantity of the food he'd eaten when he was Throttle's age, but he knew it'd been a lot! Throttle was well into that stage of a young male's life where they ate often and in unbelievable amounts! He'd have to work hard to make sure Throttle got what he needed.

"You know something about army rations." He commented, as Throttle set the bag down and correctly tied it closed again.

Throttle nodded. "Mother didn't leave the cave very often, but there were a couple times where she had to leave us home with Father. He was in the army once, and he didn't know how to cook, so whenever he had to watch us we ate army rations. I haven't eaten army rations since he…" He fell silent and looked away, closing his eyes.

Stoker frowned. He could've been wrong, but it was almost as if the boy were ashamed.

"How …how long have you been living on your own out here?" Throttle asked, not looking up at his new guardian.

Stoker plastered a smiled to his face. Right again Eleanor. She had warned him that there would be things Throttle wouldn't be ready to tell him, especially not right away. So he let it alone for now. The kid would tell him when he was ready.

Picking up the pot, he carried it over to the water reservoir and dispensed some water into it before setting the pot on a hot plate to heat. He pursed his lips and cocked his head thoughtfully before answering Throttle's question.

"Hmm….Well, I've been living here ever since I moved out of the barracks. I moved out when I got promoted to the General's rank, so that'd put me living here by myself at about five years or so. Before that I was bunking with twelve other males in one of the barracks and before that I lived with my folks. So essentially I've been alone five years or so, give or take a few months."

He shrugged, pulling a slotted metal spoon out of a drawer and stirring the heating pot's contents. "Eleanor used to come visit me, whether I lived in the barracks, captains quarters, or here, and after she got married to Saber she'd bring her kids along." He chuckled. "Saber and I don't exactly see eye to eye, so he never tagged along, and since the kids got older they visit less an' less."

Throttle cocked his head. Stoker had mentioned Eleanor having 'kids', plural. "Carbine's not an only child?"

Stoker raised his eyebrows. "We're _mice_ kid. I don't know if you've noticed, but we don't exactly _do _only child."

He chuckled at the teen's embarrassed blush. "No, Carbine isn't an only child. She's the youngest to be exact. Her older brother Cable is a captain in the military. He bunks with a few other captains at the base. Remind me, an' I'll introduce you to him. You'd like him, he's a great mouse and a terrible soldier."

Throttle frowned, confused. "If he's a terrible soldier, how did he get promoted to a captains rank then?"

Stoker laughed. Glancing in the pot, he added. "Soup's on! Grab a couple plates out of that cupboard will ya Throttle? Silverware's in the drawer underneath it."

While Stoker carefully transferred the pot from the hot plate to the stone table there in the kitchen. Originally, it had been a naturally occurring piece of the cave sticking up out of the floor and reaching a little above waist height. But, when the first Martian mice moved in, they'd gotten creative. Now it was a good sized table with several thickset legs attached to the floor. The chunks of stone they'd carved out from underneath had been turned into comfortable chairs.

Throttle quickly obeyed, getting bowls and silverware for both of them and bringing those back to the table. He remained standing, unsure, until the older mouse waived him into a seat.

"Sit kid, there's no standing on ceremony in this cave."

Throttle nodded, quietly slipping into one of the rough hewn stone chairs and pulling it closer to the table. He watched the brown pelted mouse sitting across the table from him curiously.

He'd run into military mice before on his rare trips into town from the cliffs, and they were usually stuck up snobs who demanded the respect of everyone around them.

Not so with this general!

Stoker raised his eyebrows, watching the teenager across from him curiously. Throttle was just sitting there, his hands resting in his lap. He knew the kid had to be hungry! But the kid didn't go for the food, didn't even look at it. Was he waiting for permission to eat? What kind of strict as a ruler home had he come from?

"You gonna join me or am I going to have to eat alone while you stare it into submission?"

Throttle jumped. "Huh? Oh." He ducked his head, embarrassed and reached for the spoon, quickly filling his own bowl. "Sorry about that." He murmured.

Stoker chuckled. "Don't worry about it."

They ate in companionable silence for a minute or two, then Throttle hesitantly spoke. "You didn't answer my question sir." Seeing Stoker's questioning look he paraphrased his earlier question. "If Carbine's brother is such a terrible soldier, how did he get promoted to a captain's rank?"

Stoker smiled. "I promoted him _because_ he's such a terrible soldier!"

Throttle frowned. "But…why?"

Stoker chuckled, setting his spoon down in the bowl so his hands were free to gesture. "Ya gotta understand the army Throttle. To them, the epitome of a good soldier is someone who's big, mean, and takes orders. That's their idea of a soldier. The only thing Cable's got going for him is that he's big, and even then he's not exactly up to their specifications!"

"Cable's tall, but he's not overly muscular. He's fit. The army prefers their soldiers to be beef cakes." He shook his head. "And yet they can't figure out why almost all of their best strategists are small and lean. It's because they don't have the muscle to rely on, so they have to use their heads to solve their problems. As for the second category, the mean part? Cable took the exact same training as every other soldier on the face of the planet, but it just didn't take. Kid's got a good heart. And as for takin' orders…"

His face became grim. "Some time ago, the squadron Cable was assigned to was sent out to Twin Horn Pass to deal with some rats. The squad leader, a sergeant with rocks for brains, led them right through the pass and into an ambush. And he stayed right there in the open while his men died around him because head quarters told him to stay where he was! Cable was a corporal at the time, and didn't have the authority to do anything. But he cowed the sergeant and ordered the men to get out of the open and take cover. He saved their lives. When asked later after the reinforcements arrived why he'd disobeyed orders and assaulted a superior officer, he told them he'd done it because they were getting slaughtered, and that he hadn't disobeyed orders because they'd stayed in the pass! He's worked himself up the ladder ever since then, and it was my pleasure to put him in for promotion last month."

Picking up his spoon again, he pointed it at Throttle. "The best weapon a mouse can ever own is his own mind. Don't you ever forget that kid."

The two retired not long after that, Stoker giving Throttle a quick tour of the caves before putting him in the guest bedroom, located right next to his own room. He could hear Throttle tossing and turning that night, and there were a couple times he debated going to check on him. But he always decided against it. Throttle was a teenager, he didn't want to embarrass the kid by checking up on him as if he were a five year old!

He felt bad about it the next morning though when Throttle stumbled into the kitchen the next morning for breakfast, having obviously had quite a hard night!

"I've got to go in to base today." Stoker stated while they ate breakfast. "You're welcome to tag along if you want."

Throttle nodded. "I'd like that. Thank you."

Stoker smiled. "Alright then! We'll get going right after breakfast."

"Yes sir."

* * *

"You're late sir, the high command's already started the meeting in the conference room without you!" The sentry at the gate called, quickly opening the gate for Stoker and Throttle to ride through.

"Thanks Carter!" Stoker called over his shoulder, not even bothering to slow the bike.

He pulled the bike to a stop outside one of the compound buildings and was hurriedly scrambling off the bike when several mice dressed in the uniforms of majors, colonels, two generals, and one admiralstepped out of the building.

Stoker stopped, no sense running once you're already caught. "My apologies sir. I know I'm late." He apologized, addressing the admiral.

The russet furred admiral inclined his head. "General Stoker, your absence is excused." He answered. "While your methods have often left me room to question, you have never kept the senior staff waiting without good reason."

Stoker nodded respectfully. "Thank you Admiral Gasket."

Gasket smiled. "I was also informed of your new… responsibilities." He added, nodding to the teenager still seated astride the motorcycle. "And I wish you luck. You're excused this time, but don't make a habit of it."

Stoker nodded and gave a respectful salute as the admiral turned and walked away. "Yes sir, thank you sir."

"And who would your companion be Stoke's?"

Stoker grinned at the portly, pale grey furred general behind him. He turned, gesturing to Throttle as the teen pulled off his helmet and set it on the bike's handlebars with Stoker's helmet. "Gus this's Throttle. He'll be roomin' with me for the foreseeable future!"

Gus grinned and shook hands with the teen. "Pleased to meet ya Throttle! But how'd you come to be stuck with this sorry excuse for a mouse?"

"Well…" Throttle started, unsure how to answer.

"Ease off him Gus!" Stoker chided teasingly. "Throttle's more the shy, silent type."

Gus snorted. "That won't last long, the sort of bad example you are!"

Stoker put on a mock horrified look. "Gus! Don't tell the kid that, he'll believe you!"

Throttle hesitantly gave them a shy smile. "It's ok sir." He told the pale furred Gus. "I was introduced to his sister and niece yesterday, and they said much the same thing." He ducked his head a little, his ears flicking back in embarrassment. "Miss Eleanor told me I might end up being a good influence on Stoker if his bad influence doesn't get to me first."

That prompted a burst of laughter from the others, especially when they saw the surprised and somewhat affronted look on Stoker's face.

"When did she say that?"

Throttle dismounted the bike. "On our way out, while you were talking with Carbine."

"Well if anyone would know Stoker, it'd be your sister!" one of the majors laughed, clapping him on the back.

"Speaking of sisters!" Stoker motioned to the third general, a steel grey creature with hard eyes and a stern face. "Throttle, this is my brother in law General Saber. He's Carbine's father."

Throttle politely offered his hand. "Pleased to meet you sir."

Saber grudgingly shook the teen's hand, casting a glare in Stoker's direction before turning and stalking off. Throttle stared after him confused. Had he done something to offend Carbine's father?

He'd only just met the mouse!

One of the colonels patted the teen on the shoulder. "Ignore him kid. Saber's always been a stick in the mud."

General Gus nodded. "He's held a grudge against Stoker for years, so don't be surprised if he treats you coolly." He cast a disparaging look in the direction Saber had gone. "Not that it's fair."

One of the majors cleared his throat. "Um, not to rush you or anything Stoke's, but you and I are due in the armory in half an hour."

Stoker made a face and nodded. "Right. You run on ahead, and I'll meet you there." Motioning for the teen to follow, he headed off across the compound. "I'm afraid the armory's off limits to civilians." He explained as he walked.

Throttle nodded. "I understand sir. Don't worry about me, I won't cause any trouble while you're busy."

Stoker gave him a sad smile. "I'm not. I doubt you could be trouble if you _tried!"_ He shook his head. "I'm more worried about some young recruit with more muscles than sense causing trouble for _you_. I'm taking you over to Cable, he'll show you around while I'm in the armory. Ok?"

Throttle nodded. He didn't particularly relish the idea that he was a problem to be handed off, a kid in need of a sitter.

But at the same time, he could understand where the older mouse was coming from. Throttle was young, and more on the small side of the spectrum. He hadn't dealt with many mice his own age up on the cliff's, but he knew he made a prime target for someone looking for trouble. Being in the company of a captain would lessen that possibility.

So he followed Stoker into one of the building's and said nothing, trotting up stairs and down hallways after his new guardian.

They finally came to a stop outside a door and Stoker pressed the call button.

"Just a minute!" a voice called from behind the door. It opened a moment later and a male Throttle judged to be in his early twenties stepped out. Surprise showed on his face at the sight of them. "Can I help you sir?"

Peering past the captain, Stoker grinned and held a finger to his lips, asking for silence. Raising his voice a little so it would carry, he said aloud, "Yeah, you can tell Captain Cable that the General wants to see his tail out here in the hallway on the double!"

There was a loud thud from inside the room and a frantic looking mouse only slightly taller than Throttle hurried to the door. "Sir I…" He stopped when he saw Stoker grinning from ear to ear.

For a minute a vexed look crossed his face, but after a few seconds he grinned and stepped out into the hallway, embracing his favorite uncle. "It's good to see you Uncle Stoker! Between your duties and mine it's been forever!"

Stoker laughed, hugging his nephew right back. "It's good to see you too kid!"

Cable stepped back, leaving his hands on the older male's shoulders. "How's mother? And Carbine? Living off base you see them more than I do."

"They're fine Cable. You're mother sister send their love." Stoker reassured.

Cable nodded, grinning. "I'm due to go on leave in a couple weeks and I'll see them then. But don't tell them though, I want to surprise them!"

"You're secret's safe with us!" Stoker laughed. Reaching out he caught Throttle's arm and pulled him forward to meet his nephew. "Cable I'd like you to meet Throttle. He's moved in with me so you'll probably be seeing a lot of him! I introduced him to your mother and sister yesterday."

Cable grinned, clasping Throttle's hand. "Welcome to the insanity then!"

Throttle smiled. He got the feeling he was going to like Cable! "The insanity?"

Cable nodded. "Yeah, runs in the family on my mother's side. Don't worry, it's not catching though."

His roommate snorted, though the smile on his face showed that he didn't mean it unkindly. "Says you! Ever since you moved in, I swear our group as a whole has gotten more daring and reckless!"

Cable childishly stuck out his tongue at his roommate. "Just because the rest of you were timid little church mice didn't mean I had to be! If my 'recklessness' as you call it, has rubbed off on you guys so much the better!"

The other captain glared at him in exasperated amusement. "You just don't get it do you?" to Stoker he added. "We share the room with Captain Thiet and Captain Duval. You know how Thiet's had a crush on that pretty white furred girl who works as a waitress in Orion's Belt Café? He's been crushing on her for five years now!"

He gestured at Cable. "New captain on the block moves in, and within a month he's got Thiet saying hello to her! He's got him holding an intelligible conversation with her by two months and by month three he's got him asking her out on a date! Thiet's going to take her out for a movie for the first time this coming weekend! And don't even get me started on how he's talked Duval into learning to climb the cliffs!"

Cable grinned and elbowed his friend and fellow captain. "Not to mention the fact that you're actually addressing superiors without stuttering over your words now." He teased.

Stoker laughed, clapping both captains on the shoulder. "Good for you!" Looking to Cable he added apologetically. "I got a favor to ask. I'm due over in the armory, you know how they are, and I can't leave a civilian unsupervised on base."

Cable grinned. "No problem! He can hang with me until you're through with those fussy old grey pelts in the armory." Seeing the concerned look on Stoker's face, he laughed and shoed his uncle away. "I don't mind the responsibility, and I doubt you'd saddle me with a trouble maker. It'll be fine!"

Stoker nodded. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He promised Throttle, patting the tan gold mouse on the shoulder and hurrying away to keep his meeting with the major.

The three watched him go.

After he'd disappeared, the other captain yawned and gave a luxurious stretch. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to bed. I'm going to sleep for a month, or until my tour of duty's over, whichever comes first!" He headed back into the bedroom, waving negligently at the two of them. "Don't worry about me, I could probably sleep through an invasion of Saber Squids."

Cable nodded. "See you tonight." He answered.

He leaned in the door to grab his coat then shut it and led Throttle back down the hall. "Bolt works the night shift." He explained as they walked. "Last night was pretty rough and he's been filling out reports since his shift ended, so he's pretty sleep deprived by this point! He's kept the noise down to a minimum for me when I've had a hard day, I figure it's only fair to return the favor."

The two mice stepped out into the sunlight, and paused. While Cable stared out across the base, Throttle took the opportunity to study his new companion.

Stoker's nephew couldn't have looked less like his jovial uncle if he'd tried.

He was taller than Throttle was, and though he hadn't entirely lost the gainliness of his youth, he was showing every sign of growing taller and broader through the shoulders and chest. Cool dark eyes surveyed the base, and well groomed steel grey fur shone in the late morning sun. Cable was every inch the natural leader Stoker had said. He was the spitting image of his father, Saber.

**Unlike me.** Throttle thought with a small pang. He looked nothing like his own sire.

But there were differences between Cable and Saber as well, he noted. Where Saber's face was hard and stern, Cable's was open like his mothers and he seemed just as ready to laugh and joke as he was to issue a command as a captain.

The captain in question turned to grin at him. "I don't know what you're up to." He admitted. "Uncle Stoker can be pretty spry sometimes, so for all I know he could've run you hither and yon and back before breakfast! So it's up to you what we do. We can either tour the base, as much as we can at any rate, or I can take you to the lounge. There're always mice there who aren't above a game or two to pass the time."

Throttle gave him a hesitant smile. "I would appreciate the tour." He admitted. "I know little of Stoker, other than what people have told me, and the stories I hear often clash. It might help to see where he works."

Cable grinned and slung an arm across Throttle's shoulders, leading him off across the base. "Fine by me! And as to the stories you hear about Uncle Stoker, they're gonna conflict a lot. He's a good mouse, great officer, and probably one of the best tacticians the army's seen in years! But he has his own way of doing things and he and the army butt heads pretty often. I swear, the only reason they haven't discharged him yet is _because_ he's so good at his job!"

Throttle flicked his ears back nervously. "Could you tell me more about him? I only just met him recently, and I haven't gotten much chance to get to know him yet…" he chewed his lip, flicking his tail nervously. "I don't want to say or do something and find out later I broke some taboo or other!"

Cable gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed the younger mouse's shoulders. "Throttle, if you learn anything about my uncle it's that he's probably one of the easiest going mice out there, and you'll learn it fast! The only taboo's you'll find are the ones that violate common sense and/or decency."

Throttle nodded. "But I still know so little about him!"

Cable laughed. "Well then, come with me my friend! I'll give you a tour of the base and on the way I'll tell you every dirty slash embarrassing secret you could possibly want to know about dear old Uncle Stoker!"

* * *

Stoker frowned as he trotted through the military complex.

That business in the armory had taken longer than he'd thought it would, and he'd been waylaid after that with several other tasks that he simply couldn't get out of. All told, he'd left Throttle with Cable for a total of nine hours!

Glancing into the training building, and seeing nothing of his nephew or his ward, he shook his head and moved on to the next building. He _so_ owed Cable big for this! Throttle too! He knew he hadn't said _when_ he'd be back, only that he'd be back as soon as he _could_. But even so, nine hours was pushing it, and it wasn't fair to Cable and Throttle! He'd basically just blown the majority of their day!

**Lousy way for Throttle to spend his first day!** The brown pelted general thought dismally. He peeked into the mess hall, eyes scanning the various mice seated at the table's catching a late lunch or early dinner. Thankfully there weren't many.

Throttle and Cable weren't among them.

"Now where on earth could those two've gotten off to?" he muttered. Catching sight of a familiar face he picked up his pace to intercept him. "Axis!"

The tall, black pelted mouse paused and turned, a grin spreading across his features when he recognized who was calling for his attention. "Stoker! Long time no see!" he laughed, shaking hands with his brown furred friend.

Stoker laughed, clapping the colonel on the shoulder. "You flea bitten rascal, what are you doing here? I haven't seen your ugly face in ages!"

Axis made a face of mock distaste. "Speak for yourself you mangy old mouse! I happen to have a girl! And I can almost guarantee you can't say the same!"

Stoker shook his head, grinning. "Not at the moment I can't." he agreed.

Axis chuckled. "I thought as much. Anyway, as to your question about what I'm doing here, I've been reassigned as a body guard! I'm passing through on my way to Crook Crater military base to pick up my charge."

Stoker arched an eyebrow. "Sounds pretty important!"

"And classified." Axis grumbled, making a face. "I don't even know whose body I'm going to be _guarding_!" He sighed and shook his head in frustration. "So how about you? What's new in your life?"

Stoker grinned, the two of them starting to move again. The look on his friend's face when he uttered this next sentence was going to be absolutely priceless!

"I got a kid."

"You _what_?" Axis stopped dead in his tracks, dark eyes wide and mouth hanging open in stunned amazement as he starred at his somewhat younger companion.

Stoker had to work _very_ hard to keep his face deadpan. Oh yes, definitely priceless! Noting a security camera pointed straight at them, he made a mental note to talk to a friend in security and see if he could get a still shot of Axis' face at this moment.

He resumed walking, making a show of checking the interior of another building.

"I left him with my nephew Cable..." He said over his shoulder at Axis, who was following him in what appeared to be a stunned stupor. "You haven't seen them by any chance have you?"

"What? No!" The black pelted mouse shook his head, ears flapping as he apparently tried to clear it. "Wait a second, back up to the part where you said you had a kid!"

Stoker laughed. "_I have a kid!_" He repeated, moving on toward the next building.

"Oh _hell_ no! You can _not_ just leave it at that!" Axis growled playfully, catching hold of Stoker's shoulder and stopping him mid step. "You're not taking one more step until you give a better explanation than that!"

Stoker heaved a sigh. "Axis, I have to keep moving. I left the kid with Cable and now I can't find them. If you wouldn't mind helping me look, I'll explain everything on the way. Sound good?"

Axis nodded. "Deal, now start squeaking."

"Ok. Did you hear about the incident up on the cliffs? I know the base you're usually stationed at is a good ways away…" Axis shook his head and Stoker sighed. "Ok. Then listen good. The kid's story may be short, but it's anythin' but pretty…"

* * *

"…and then he just up and drops her headfirst into the pond! She comes spluttering up to the surface and asks him what the heck that was for, and he just grins at her! And he says 'Well lieutenant, you said to drop you off'!"

The mice seated around the table burst into raucous howls of laughter, many either clapping the story teller on the back or holding up their glasses in salute. Throttle and Cable laughed along with the rest, holding up their own glasses in approval.

Alcohol wasn't allowed on base, and Throttle would've been to young anyway, but the lounge was a popular place for off duty mice nonetheless. They came either to wet their whistles or to gossip.

And in cases like today, they came to trade stories.

Throttle and Cable had come here after their tour of the base, and Cable had started telling stories about his uncle. Others had been attracted, and soon they were sharing stories of their own about the much vaunted General Stoker. He was apparently quite the colorful character around the base!

The two had been here for hours!

Cable suddenly straightened up and waved excitedly, a delighted smile on his face. "Speak of the mouse and he'll scurry out of his cave sooner or later!" he laughed. "Uncle Stoker, we were just talking about you!"

Stoker laughed, ordering a drink for himself and his black pelted companion. "Nothing bad I hope!"

Throttle chuckled softly, barely audible over the laughter of the other mice. "They've been telling me stories of some of your more…colorful escapades."

Stoker froze in his tracks, an almost comical look of genuine alarm on his face. He knew these mice, and some of them had stories of truly blackmail worthy material!

"Oh no, what have these idiots been telling you?" he exclaimed, casting annoyed glares around at his fellow mice, who frankly couldn't have cared less. They doubted that any of the stories they'd told would get them into serious trouble. Key word being _doubted_, you could never quite tell with the unpredictable general.

"They just finished telling us about how you disciplined that visiting lieutenant a couple years back." Cable answered, pushing out a chair beside him for his uncle with the toe of his boot.

Taking the seat on the other side of Stoker, the black furred mouse leaned forward to peer around his friend at Cable and Throttle. "Which lieutenant?" he asked.

Cable grinned at his uncle's groan. "How many lieutenants has he dropped into ponds?"

The black furred mouse laughed, taking a swig of his drink. "Well there was that one, but there was another one that made the mistake of shooting off his foul mouth in front of a lady. His superiors could never understand how it was that he ended up locked in the latrine."

Throttle cocked his head. "What's so bad about being locked in a latrine?"

Stoker chuckled. "Well Throttle, you see there's a very fine difference between being locked _in_ a latrine, and being locked in the room that _holds_ the latrine."

The other mice sitting around the table, who'd been trying to pretend they _weren't_ listening in on the conversation, roared with laughter.

"Let the punishment fit the crime!" one laughed, clapping Stoker on the shoulder in approval as he passed.

"So what are you doing here Axis?" Cable called over the din. "I haven't seen you here since I was a private!"

"Just passing through." Axis called back easily. Looking past Cable to Throttle sitting at the end of the table, he leaned across uncle and nephew alike to offer his hand to the teenager. "And you must be Throttle! Stoker's been telling me about you! The name's Axis."

"Pleased to meet you." Throttle called back, shaking the hand Axis offered.

"Likewise!" Axis got a decidedly despicable look on his face as he darted a glance at Stoker. "Well since we're all telling stories on Stoker, let me tell you about the time his sister blackmailed him into…"

"Axis!" Stoker yelled, panicked.

* * *

Lol, not sure what story Axis was about to tell, but I'm sure it would've been classic! And for those of you wondering where the bro's are, they're on their way! And I know Throttle's a little ooc at the momment, but he becomes the Throttle we all know and love after prolonged exposure to Stoker and the bros so never fear!

Review! I need to 'hear' your happy lil' voices and your thoughts on the case!

Until next time...


	4. Night Terrors

Hope you guys like! Lil bit more serious chapter, but if my siblings are anything to go by I've still managed to weasle in some humor. :)

Shout outs to the amazing: MayaPatch, Rainbowluvr17, Spades24, Miceaholic! You guys rock! As such I'm awarding you a bike ride with the mouse of your choice. Enjoy!

* * *

ENJOY!

* * *

_It was dark. _

_Hot. _

_The darkness was pushing in on him like a living thing, glowing ribbons of yellow and blue dancing here and there. _

_Throttle gasped, stumbling over a piece of furniture. His red gemstone eyes watered in the smoke. Desperately searching for any sign of life. _

_He searched room after room, desperately calling for someone, _anyone_ to answer him. Kitchen, living room, playroom, her room, their room… Where were they? He couldn't find them!_

"Mom! Alexiana!" _He screamed into the dark, flickering depths of the cave. _"Where are you? Mom! Alexiana! Answer me please!"

_He coughed, choking on the smoke and gasses of the burning Martian granite. He couldn't stay here anymore. _

_He couldn't breath!_

_Sobbing, the tan mouse turned and bolted for the door, tripping over broken furniture hidden in the haze of smoke and flame. He had to get out! He was no use to them if he was dead! He stumbled again, tumbling headfirst…_

* * *

"Gahh!"

Throttle bolted upright in bed, panting for breath.

Brilliant gemstone eyes starred at the strange room he found himself in, uncomprehending. Odd sounds caused his ears to twitch this way and that, and new scents assaulted his nose. It took him several minutes to recognize the sights, sounds, and smells of his room here in Stoker's cave.

The tan gold teen shivered, pulling his knees up closer to his body under the blankets. He rubbed his upper arms, shivering again, harder than before. His thick fur, usually an advantage in the cool caverns, was now soaked in sweat.

Icy cold.

Tears welled in his ruby red eyes. The nightmare. It had been so real. The smoke. The fire. The gas… the feeling of utter loss and despair was still fresh in his heart and mind.

He tried to choke back a sob and laid down again. Curling up into a ball on his side, Throttle pulled the thick blankets up around his shoulders once more and buried his face in the pillow. After that he let the sobs rack his body.

His mother and sister were dead. His father and brother long gone, who knows where. The tears came harder and he curled even farther into himself.

His door was closed, the pillow muffled him, and Stoker was busy with paperwork in his office down the hall.

There was no one to hear him cry.

* * *

Stoker heaved a sigh, crawling weakly into his bed.

It was nearly midnight. The poor mouse had had to stay up late to finish filling out all the blasted paperwork the army seemed to believe was _required_ to run a military.

He snorted and shook his head. He could've run a perfectly efficient fighting force with little to no paperwork at all, why did they need so much? And why did they need multiple copies of the exact same document?

It was just a great big conspiracy to waste paper, he was sure of it!

He hauled the blankets up round his shoulders, cuddling down into the thick covers for warmth. Subterranean caves like this changed temperature very little, almost never more than a few degrees or so. But still, that meant that the caves were constantly cool.

At least they weren't damp like the caves of some other planets!

He closed his eyes, nuzzling down into the covers. If only he didn't have to go to base tomorrow! Stoker smiled. He usually didn't care to hang around base after hours, but today had been great!

They'd spent several hours in the lounge, swapping stories of one kind or another well into the evening. Then he'd come home with Throttle, the two had eaten dinner together, and Throttle had gone to bed not long after while Stoker stayed up to finish his paperwork.

He felt a little bad about dinner being army rations again, but he simply did not know how to cook much of anything! And what little he did know how to cook, he couldn't cook well. He didn't want Throttle to think he _had_ to eat the lump of charcoal that Stoker would probably ladle onto his plate!

Because from what he'd seen of the kid, Throttle would probably choke it down, force a smile on his face and offer up a compliment of some kind or other!

He frowned, twitching his ears. He could've sworn he'd heard something…

Stoker sat up in bed, all trace of weariness gone as adrenalin washed through his system, his eyes locked on the door to his room. He flicked his ears forward, listening intently for…he wasn't entirely sure. He'd only _just_ caught whatever it was the first time.

The sound came again, and he silently pushed the cover's away, flipping his feet out of bed and setting them on the cool stone floor.

He hadn't bothered to change into pajamas before hand, or really even to undress. He'd barely had the energy to pull off his boots and belts, leaving the boots in the living room and the belts hanging off the back of a chair here in his bedroom.

The brown furred mouse quietly pulled his blaster from its holster, leaving the belts on the chair, and slipped out into the hall. He could hear the sound better now.

A voice.

Throttle wouldn't be up and about at this time of night. And even if the kid_ had _gotten up to answer natures call or something, he wouldn't be making all _that_ racket!

Stoker bared his teeth. Nobody broke into _his_ home in the middle of the night. _No one._ He silently crept farther down the hall, tail flicking eagerly back and forth in his wake. He pitied the poor soul who'd dared to come down here in the middle of the night.

Because whoever it was, they were about to get the tail whipping of a lifetime!

* * *

_Throttle groaned, thrashing against the hands that held him. _

_He couldn't see much in the dim, wavering light of the small fires they'd built. But he didn't need to. He knew who they were. And he knew why they were here._

No!_ He tried to scream. _Let go of me! Leave me alone!

_But they couldn't hear him, didn't _want_ to hear him! In fact they laughed at his efforts as his muffled cries came through the hand that gagged him! _

_He lashed his tail, cracking it like a whip the way he'd been shown. A cry of pain above and behind his head to his left informed him that said tail had made impact. _

_The smell of blood came to the boy's nose a moment later, and he felt proud to realize that his aim had been truer than he'd thought! _

_His lashing tail made impact again, eliciting another cry, and this time he could feel the blood he'd drawn coating the tip of his tail. Two rough hands suddenly grasped his tail and hauled on it hard, and a second later something heavy was dropped down to pin it there, the crushing weight more than he could bear. _

_Throttle screamed, drawing more laughter from his captors._

_The hand over his mouth tightened, pressing the edge of his buck teeth into his lip. If the rotten creature pushed much harder, Throttle was certain that the edge of his teeth would cut into his lower lip. _

_A thought struck him and he acted on it in an instant. _

_An angry scream erupted in his ear, and he bit down even harder on that hand that was trying to silence him. His captor tore his hand from Throttle's teeth, and another mouse backhanded him, making him see stars. _

_The hands that were holding him pulled away and he found himself dropping to the hard stone, like a puppet who's strings had suddenly been cut. He curled into a ball, trying to protect himself from the blows they were raining down on him._

_The kicks and punches slowed, then stopped, and hands were grabbing at him once again. Throttle snarled, rallying what strength he could to try and fend them off. _

_A hand made a grab for his ear and missed, landing alongside his muzzle. He took the opportunity, sinking his teeth into the hand of one of his captors yet again and biting down hard. _

_He heard a scream, and this time he tasted blood! He bit down even harder. If he was going to go down, he was going to make sure that they remembered him! _

"Throttle!"

_He paused in his thrashing, ears pricking. They weren't hitting him anymore, and with the exception of one hand on his upper arm their grips were loosening!_

"Throttle! Cheese kid, come on! Throttle, wake up!"

Throttle frowned, opening his eyes. He stared up at a brown furred mouse in confusion. Who was this strange mouse? And what was he doing in here…?

Memory came back to Throttle in a cold wash and he realized the mouse currently crouching over him was General Stoker, the mouse who'd so generously opened up the doors of his home to him.

"Ya gonna spit that out kid?" Stoker asked dryly, though he didn't seem to mean it unkindly. "Or were you planning on having the _other _one for breakfast?"

Throttle frowned, confused. What was he talking abou…?

He froze as he realized he could _still_ taste blood. And Stoker was only holding onto him with _one_ hand.

Blushing furiously with embarrassment, he slowly opened his mouth, releasing Stoker's hand. They both winced when they realized that Throttle's buck teeth were still embedded deep in the flesh along the outside edge.

"Lift your head up a little." The brown pelted mouse ordered calmly. Throttle obeyed, and Stoker quickly and carefully pulled his hand _off _the boy's teeth and _out_ of his wards mouth.

Throttle let his ears flick back and down, mortified. "…I'm sorry…" he whispered.

"Don't even..!" Stoker began gruffly.

Throttle cringed away from his tone, drawing his knees up against his chest.

**_Well done Stoker!_** The general thought irritably at himself. **_The kid just woke up from some sort of violent nightmare, and all you can do is yell at him and scare him even more? Some comforting guardian you are! _**

He sighed and let go of Throttle's arm to rub his face tiredly. "Sorry kid, I didn't mean to sound so gruff with you…" He glanced at the teen.

Throttle had wrapped his arms around his knees and drawn them closer still, as if trying to make himself as small as possible. Even his tail had come forward to wrap around him.

And he was trembling.

**_Cheese! Did I scare him that badly? What the heck was happening in that dream of his? _**Stoker sighed. "You ok?"

Throttle gave a jerky nod, though he refused to meet Stoker's eyes. "I'm sorry. I'll be ok." He curled into an even smaller ball, though Stoker doubted the boy was even aware he was doing it. "I'm sorry I disturbed you." He whispered.

Stoker's eyes narrowed. **_More's happened to this kid than he's told me. The way he fought me when I grabbed him…Somebody really hurt this kid! _**

He angrily shook his head. He'd known Throttle all of a day and a half, but that was more than enough time for the young mouse to make an impact. **_Whoever it was, they aint gonna do it again!_**

"Come on." He said gently. "It's time you and I both got some sleep!"

Throttle gave a small nod. "Yeah…"

Stoker watched him for a moment. The teen hadn't moved. He gave a soft smile and stood. It was time someone showed this kid some care! He just hope the kid didn't panic and hit him!

"Come on." He said again, and surprised the young mouse by scooping him up in his arms in a bridal carry, blankets and all.

"Wait what..?" Throttle yelped. He hurriedly put his arms around Stoker's neck, afraid of being dropped. "What are you doing?"

Inside, Stoker winced. The kid might sound more startled than afraid but the wild, anxious flicking of his tail, and the nervous twitching of his ears and nose said otherwise. Throttle was scared out of his wits! Picking him up had definitely _not_ been a good idea!

But now that he had, he might as well keep going!

Turning around, he calmly stepped up on the bed and laid the kid down, stretching out beside him. His tail curled around the spare blanket folded at the foot of the bed and pulled it up to cover them both, since the rest of the blankets were currently tangled around Throttle.

"Get some sleep Throttle." He ordered, though the tone was nothing but affectionate and reassuring. He closed his eyes, his mind already drifting off towards sleep.

Within a few minutes he was softly snoring away.

Throttle scrutinized the brown pelted mouse curiously. This was definitely not what he'd expected!

After a long minute, he hesitantly nuzzled Stoker's jaw before rolling over and closing his eyes. He couldn't explain it, but for some reason he felt more at ease with Stoker so near.

* * *

Lol, I know that this was supposed to be in answer to "The Great Romance Challenge" and I haven't changed my mind! But I just couldn't resist getting a bit of Throttle Stoker bonding time in there! And as to when the "Velocity Atrocity" and the "Southern Gent" make their appearances, I think that will be in a couple chapters. There are still a couple story points I need to tidy out of the way, but after that, I'm scott free to send them charging in to help the poor mouse!

Review! Or Plutarkians will plunder my stories for the valuable resource of words!

Until next time...


	5. Turn Around

Sorry for the long wait guys, I know it's been awhile. I'll try to be a bit better at that, I know how frustrating it is to wait weeks for an update! So to make up for my long absence I present a long chapter!

Shout out's to: MayaPatch, Spades24, Miceaholic, Luna, and SilverStarFox! You guys are my inspiration and reason for writing! Cyber cookies to all! (::)

* * *

ENJOY!

* * *

"Hmm…"

Throttle opened bleary gemstone eyes. He frowned, ears flicking forward curiously. He was currently laying flat on his stomach in bed. That was unusual, he didn't usually sleep on his belly. He suddenly froze.

There was an arm resting across the small of his back!

He shuddered and lifted his head, wondering who was in bed with him and how the heck that had happened. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned his head. Ruby red eyes widened in surprise.

Lying beside him was Stoker, one arm thrown across Throttle's lower back. The older male was fast asleep. Remembering last night, the teen allowed himself to relax and let his head fall back to the pillow.

Behind him, Stoker groaned in his sleep.

The arm looped around his waist suddenly tightened.

Throttle gasped, every instinct yelling at him to _move!_

Stoker hauled him up onto his side and dragged him back to lie against his chest.

**_I've got to trust someone…_**

Throttle chewed his lip, then laid his head down on the pillow again. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax into Stoker's hold.

He cast an irritable glance downwards. Despite his best efforts, his tail was still flicking nervously back and forth near their ankles. That tail smacked against Stoker's calf, and Throttle froze.

Behind him, Stoker gave a quiet grunt and opened muddy red eyes. He blinked a couple times, seemingly trying to comprehend where he was and what was going on. After a moment, he gave Throttle a lazy smile.

"Mornin'." He said, letting go of Throttle and sitting up in bed to stretch. "Did you sleep good?"

Throttle gave an embarrassed nod. "Actually, yeah.."

Stoker smiled. He'd thought that might be _part _of the problem. Mice were sociable creatures, and given how cold Martian nights could be inside a cave that social outlook had been extended to the bed. Mice often slept in groups, though piles would've been a better word, hence why their beds were usually very wide and low to the ground.

Sleeping groups were usually either made up of close friends of the same gender, or family units. Once the offspring got married they would break off from the family group and sleep with their spouse. It was a rare thing for a mouse to sleep alone.

Stoker had been doing it for going on five years now, and was considered quite odd for that!

Throttle was young, barely fifteen. And unless Stoker missed his guess, part of Throttle's nightmare problem lay there. He'd never slept alone before, and he instinctively recognized that as wrong, or out of the ordinary at the very least. It made him feel uneasy and off balance, resulting in part with the nightmares.

"Glad to hear it."

Throttle's eyes suddenly widened and he shot up in bed. "Your hand!" The tan gold teen quickly caught hold of Stoker's wrist and pulled it closer so he could see.

Inwardly, they were both cursing. Throttle for having hurt Stoker, Stoker for having forgotten and accidentally letting Throttle see it.

Throttle chewed his lip, ears flicking back in shame as he eyed the punctures on Stoker's left hand, and the dried blood that matted the fur around it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bite you."

Stoker chuckled. "You meant to bite someone kid." Seeing the look on the teen's face, he added. "Look. I've been in the army long enough to know a bad memory when I see one, and I'm not going to hold it against you. Whether you decide to tell me what happened or not, now that's up to you."

"But I want you to know, I'm here for you Throttle. Whoever hurt you before, they aren't going to get a second shot at you if I have my say." He stated grimly.

Tears welled in Throttle's eyes and the teen practically dove into Stoker's arms. While the brown pelted mouse hadn't been expecting it, he couldn't say that he didn't enjoy it.

"Thank you sir." Throttle murmured quietly against Stoker's shoulder.

Stoker chuckled. "You're welcome Throttle. But just between you and me?" Throttle looked up and Stoker grinned. "I'm only 'sir' when I'm pulling the 'General Stoker' card. The rest of the time I'm just Stoker. Ok?"

Throttle nodded. "Yes sir…"He started, then flushed and dropped his eyes as he realized he'd done it again. "Sorry. I'll try to remember Stoker." The tan gold teen sat back after a long moment, and his eyes fell across Stoker's hand again.

"What about your hand?"

Stoker held up his bloody hand, giving it a quizzical look. "This? Given time and a couple stitches, this'll heal." He grinned and ruffled Throttle's hair before climbing off the bed and heading for the door.

He paused for a moment in the open doorway. "Oh, and Throttle?"

"Yes si…Stoker?"

The general grinned at his ward's slip up. "It wasn't my intention to make you feel like you _had_ to sleep alone when I gave you this bedroom. You're welcome in my pile anytime kid."

* * *

"Stoker?"

The general paused, looking back at Throttle curiously before mounting his bike. "What's up Throttle?"

The tan gold mouse chewed his lip nervously. "Um…would it be alright if I explored the town today while you're at the base? I've only been in town a couple times and since I'm going to be living here now…"

Stoker chuckled and nodded. "Not a bad idea." He agreed. "You need a lift?"

Throttle smiled and shook his head. " No. I'll be alright. You go on ahead, I'd hate to make you late again!"

Stoker picked up his helmet and pulled it on. "Throttle, that was an excused absence. The admiral knows what's going on, and he's no fool. There is nothing there to worry about." He started the bike and leaned over to ruffle the boy's hair. "I'll be home as quickly as I can. You stay out of trouble and make sure you're back here by sunset. Until you get the lay of the land I'd rather you weren't out at night. Deal?"

Throttle laughed and playfully swatted the older mouse's hand away. "Deal."

* * *

Throttle gazed around at the town, taking in the unfamiliar sights, sounds, and smells.

It had been an unusual thing for him to come into town before his father and brother left, slightly less rare afterwards when he'd become the unofficial 'man of the cave'. He could count the number of times he'd come to town on his fingers.

But he'd never come alone.

He smiled sadly as he slipped into one of his mother's favorite shops. It felt odd to be here on his own, to be here without her, but he enjoyed the fond memories the shop conjured of times spent here with his mother and sister.

A glint of light caught his eye off to one side, distracting him.

He made his way closer to those shelves, eyeing the various playthings stocked there. That, not surprisingly, had been Alexiana's favorite part of the store. The toy that had caught his eye was a small stuffed brown mouse with pale gold hair. It had a ruffled blue dress and was wearing a necklace with a mirror pendant on it.

He quietly picked it up.

Alexiana had taken a shine to the sister of this particular stuffed mouse. That one had been pretty much the same except it had a green dress. The cliff mice traded amongst themselves for what they needed. But they still brought goods down into town to sell so they had money should they need it. He'd saved whatever money he'd earned and the family didn't need, and had purchased that stuffed mouse for Alexiana's upcoming birthday as a surprise. She'd never see it now. It'd probably burned up in the fire.

"Throttle?"

He set the stuffed mouse back down on the shelf and turned. The elderly mouse had once been a light orange color, or so Throttle had been told. The mouse was practically silver now with age, with just the slightest hints of his original orange color here and there.

But he was just as sharp as ever.

"Hey Jack."

The old mouse smiled, his milky blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's good to hear your voice again." He answered amiably. His smile turned a little mischievous. "Sounded out your little sister and found out she likes the blue dress better did ya?"

Throttle chuckled and shook his head. He'd had trouble remembering which doll it was that his sister had liked, and eventually he'd taken a stab in the dark and chosen the green one. "Yeah I did actually, and I guessed right."

Jack cocked his head curiously. "Then why..?" he asked, leaving the question open.

Throttle's smile faded. "Sentiment more than anything."

Jack frowned, then suddenly seemed to get it. "The granite fire on the cliffs?"

Throttle blanched and looked away. "…yeah."

Tears welled in the old mouse's blue eyes. "Alexiana? Pearl?" he asked, calling Throttle's mother by name. Throttle's silence was a clear answer. The tears leaving wet tracks down his cheeks, the elderly mouse held out his hands and took the few steps forward to close the distance between them. "I'm sorry son…"

Throttle caught his hands and gently guided him into a hug, nuzzling into the familiar scent of the old family friend. "I don't know what to do anymore Jack. I feel so lost without them…"

The silvery furred mouse nodded, patting him on the back. "I know son. I know. You'll feel that way at first. You never stop missin' them, but it gets better with time. But only if you let it. That much I can promise you."

Throttle nodded, breaking the hug and wiping at his eyes. "I hope you're right."

Jack gave a sad smile. "I am. Personal experience doesn't leave much room for error." He answered. Shaking his head, he continued more briskly. "So, did they put you in the orphanage then? That granite fire couldn't have cooled enough to be comfortable yet, and I doubt that scapegrace of a father of yours would come out of the woodwork now."

Throttle gave a soft chuckle and followed the mouse as he turned and made his way back to the store's main counter.

He could remember.

Jack had always been sharp eyed, and even after age took his sight he seemed to see more with no eyes than most mice would see with two. And Throttle could remember how Jack never really seemed to like his father. He was good friends with Pearl, and he'd absolutely adored her children, but he just couldn't seem to warm up to her husband.

"No actually."

Jack pricked his ears up in surprise, the dusting rag he was running across his counter going still. "No? You find some relatives I didn't know about?"

Throttle shook his head, taking his customary seat on the stool behind the counter. That stool had always been reserved for important conversations. Jack had always laughingly called it his 'advice' stool.

"Not exactly. The mouse that came across the fire and brought me back into the hospital here in town, he must have seen something in me that he liked because he's taken me in."

"Hmm…" Jack nodded thoughtfully.

He was glad Throttle hadn't ended up in the orphanage, that was no place for the lively boy Throttle normally was and would be again once his grief had eased. But he wasn't so sure about Throttle moving in with some strange mouse he'd just met.

"That was awful kind of him." He said in a neutral tone. "What's his name?"

"General Stoker."

A smile lit Jack's face. "Stoker huh? Well, he's certainly the last mouse I would've expected! Though, then again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"You know him?" Throttle asked, surprised.

Jack chuckled. "Yeah, I know him. I taught him how to ride a motorcycle! He's an unruly rascal and a ladies man, but he's a good mouse with a kind heart. He'll treat you well, and if he doesn't I'll personally whip tail across his nose and have my grandson and his friend carry out the inventive discipline!"

Throttle laughed at that.

Inventive discipline basically meant whoever it was that was punishing the mouse got creative, and more often than not a little bit humiliating. You made sure that the delinquent remembered the punishment, and so did everyone who'd seen it. Stoker's punishment of the two lieutenants had been prime examples of that.

"I don't think that'll be necessary Jack, we're getting along alright." He reassured. Glancing at a timepiece he flicked his ears and added, "As it is I need to get going, I promised I'd be back at the cave before dark.

Jack chuckled. "Alright. But you come by and see me anytime you like. And don't you forget, my cave's always open to you if things don't work out with Stoker."

Throttle smiled, the first genuine smile he'd had in days, and gave the elderly mouse a grateful hug before leaving the store.

He silently made his way through the streets of town, gazing at the various buildings.

He felt like he'd explored the whole town by this point, though in reality he'd seen barely a third of it, as he hadn't really spent much time in any of the residential areas except his own. Now he looked for the landmarks he'd memorized on the way in to remind him of the way back to the cave. A statue here, an odd looking building there.

It was when he got into the living sections that he began to have trouble.

In order to withstand the harsh storms Mars was prone to, the handmade homes above ground had to be tough. Thus there wasn't as much room for individuality. There were less landmarks for Throttle to follow. It didn't take long for him to figure out that he was completely lost.

He flicked his ears irritably.

His first day out on his own and he got lost! What was Stoker going to think?

A small reasonable corner of his mind answered that he would probably just laugh and joke with Throttle about it, but he chose to ignore that.

Spying a light orange brown mouse crouching by a bike in front of a house, Throttle made a face, he really didn't want to ask directions. But he _had_ to get back to the cave, he'd promised he'd be back before dark.

He swallowed his pride and walked up to the mouse.

"Excuse me?" he asked hesitantly.

The mouse looked up from it's work and grinned at him, revealing large eyes and a friendly smile set in a face smeared with grease from the motorcycle engine under maintanence.

"Hello." She answered, setting down her tool and wiping her hands on a rag before offering one to him. "What can I do for you?"

Throttle flushed under his fur and shook her hand. "Hi. Um…listen, I'm kind of new to the neighborhood and somehow I got turned around. I was wondering if you could point me in the right direction?"

Her smile widened as she straightened, holding her arms over her head to stretch. "Well well! A male that'll _actually_ ask for directions! The world must be comin' to an end!" she laughed, picking her tool back up and bending down to tighten something. "No, I don't mind pointing you in the right direction. Where do you live?"

"General Stoker's cave." Throttle answered.

The female raised her eyebrows at that. "Stoker?" she repeated. "Since when did Stoker have a roommate?"

Throttle flicked his ears at that. "Since he took me in three days ago." He answered. "He had to go back in to the base today and told me I could look around the town so long as I was back at the cave before dark." He cast a rueful glance at the setting sun. "If I don't hurry I'll be late."

The woman nodded. "Alright. You wait right here, I'll be right back." Throttle nodded and she turned and trotted back into the house. She came back a few minutes later with a pair of helmets.

"Put this on and hop aboard." She ordered, tossing one to him. "I'll give you a lift. I'm about due to give Stoker a visit anyhow!"

Throttle did as he was told, pulling the helmet on and climbing on the bike behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at him.

"You got a name?"

He nodded. "My name's Throttle. Yours?"

The female grinned, kick starting the bike and revving the engine. She rolled them forward and sent the bike shooting out into the road, turning in the general direction of Stoker's cave. Over her shoulder to him, she shouted.

"You can call me Harley!"

* * *

"Throttle?" Stoker called, walking down the steps to his living room.

Sensing his movement the lights hummed to life, illuminating the room. There was no answer to his call. He frowned, looking to the coat hooks near the door. The jacket he'd given Throttle wasn't there.

"Throttle?"

Worry tightened in his gut as the mouse hurried through the cave's caverns, looking for his ward. That worry only intensified when he found almost no sign of the teen in his home. He hadn't realized how incredibly neat Throttle was! The only sign of the mouse was the clothing he'd been wearing the day of the fire, now washed and folded on a shelf.

He rushed back through the caves and up the steps into the garage, glancing at his timepiece on the way up. Throttle had promised he'd be home before dark.

"Get a grip on yourself Stoker, he's a teenager, he probably lost track of time!" Stoker growled to himself.

He shook his head, snatching his helmet up off the seat of his motorcycle with a growl. Of all the tails he'd had to hunt down because they were late, Throttle's was the last one he would've expected.

The sound of a motorcycle pulling up outside caught his attention and he trotted outside, curious. He hadn't been expecting anyone.

He smiled when he saw Harley's familiar form astride her cream colored bike waiting out there in the gathering dusk.

And sitting behind her on the bike was Throttle.

Harley switched off her engine and pulled the helmet off her antenna's, giving the older mouse a lazy but mischievous grin. "Hey Stoker, I had a stray wander up to my house. Any idea who he belongs to?" she asked as Throttle scrambled off.

"Alright Harley, you've made your point!" Stoker laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I've been pretty busy for the past couple days and hadn't had a chance to tell you yet, honest."

Harley gave him a playful glare before breaking out in a smile again. "Ok, I'll forgive you." She teased.

Stoker nodded, then cocked his head at Throttle. "And where have you been?" he asked, a little more sternness entering his tone than he'd intended.

Throttle let his ears drop to the sides, contrite. "After exploring for a while I went to see a family friend, he owns a shop in town. Somehow I got turned around on the way back. I asked Miss Harley for directions and she was nice enough to offer me a ride home." His ears drooped even lower. "I'm sorry I wasn't back on time."

Stoker smiled.

He shouldn't have doubted Throttle's word. Years of being the man of the cave for his mother and sister had made the teenager a very responsible young mouse. He should've known Throttle would keep his word.

"It's alright. It's easy to get turned around in a new town."

Throttle smiled gratefully, allowing his ears to prick back up. "Thanks."

"Welcome." Stoker answered, ruffling Throttle's hair. Looking past the teen to Harley he called, "How about it Harl's? I'll let you stay if you'll cook."

The woman grinned, leaning forward to rest on her bike's handlebars. "Hm…Now that's an offer I just couldn't refuse."

* * *

Lol, couldn't resist giving Harley at least a cameo appearance! My oppinion she was perfect for Stoker, she wouldn't of let him get away with squat! But at the same time she was great with Vinnie too so I don't know what to think on that front. And speaking of the velocity attrocity, he's racing our way as we speak!

Review, or the Plutarkian's will plunder my stories!

Until next time...


	6. Testing

Yay, new chapter! (does happy dance)

Shout outs to: MayaPatch, Miceaholic! Cookies to the both of you, Harley's cooking!

* * *

ENJOY!

* * *

"Relax Uncle Stoker, Throttle'll be fine!" Cable laughed.

Stoker gave his nephew a glare before returning his eyes to the teen standing in front of him.

In between his duties the day before, he'd taken the time to talk to the local school's headmaster about Throttle attending school.

Like Eleanor had said, Throttle would have to take a placement test so his teachers would know which learning group to put him in. After that had been determined, he would start school at the beginning of the following week.

Stoker had brought the subject up that evening after Harley had left for home.

He had thought his ward would vehemently oppose, or at least present a mild protest, to the idea of going to school. But to his surprise Throttle had quietly nodded his acceptance, admitting that it would be interesting to meet more mice his own age.

Apparently having playmates of a similar age group was a rare thing on the cliffs, as the mice up there lived so far apart.

So here they were standing outside the town school.

A large spur of rock jutting up out of the sand formed the majority of the school building. The mice had hollowed it out to form a large, single cavern space to act as a learning place for their children. Below the surface, a few rooms had been cut into the rock to form an office of sorts for the teachers, and an infirmary for the odd injury or two.

Set as deeply down into the stone as they could manage, they had cut a third room, the entrance well hidden. This one was the safe room. During Sand Raider attacks the children would be hidden in this third room, youngest first, while the teachers and a select few of the oldest male students either defend or distract.

Throttle would be going into the teacher's office to take his placement test, as school was in session and the main cavern was occupied by the students and teachers.

"Stoker!"

A tall, handsome white mouse came through the door of the school, a warm smile lighting his face as he came to greet them. The mouse was dressed in a pair of dark colored pants and a warm yellow sleeveless shirt. A brown leather wristlet wrapped around his right wrist. And around his neck a bright red cord had been tied tight, an ornate knot hanging in the hollow of his throat.

Stoker smiled as he watched the mouse approach. He knew this mouse, they had been in the same learning group when he went through school.

"Walt." He answered in greeting. He wrapped his arm around Throttle's shoulders reassuringly. "Still molding the minds of our youth?" he teased.

The white mouse laughed and nodded. "Better to be a teacher than the army's go for." He answered. Turning his attention to his friend's nephew he added. "I see Cable is still tagging along at the end of your tail."

Stoker chuckled and shrugged. "Meh, figured I might as well keep him around. He might prove useful someday." He teased.

Cable rolled his eyes, grinning. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence!"

"Good to know your family loves you, right Cable?" Walt joked. He smiled warmly at Throttle. "I take it this is Throttle? The headmaster told me to be on the lookout for you."

Throttle nodded, offering his hand. This mouse made him feel at ease. "Yes sir." He answered. "I…I'm supposed to take some sort of test? To tell what learning group I'm supposed to be in?"

Walt nodded. "Pleased to meet you Throttle. My name's Walter. I'll be the teacher overseeing your testing today." He patted the teen's shoulder. "Don't worry, it's not nearly as hard as it sounds."

Throttle nodded, though it was clear he was still nervous.

"About how long will this take Walt?" Stoker asked curiously.

Walt grinned.

Stoker had always been something of a protector when it came to his niece and nephew, or any mouse really that was younger and had been placed under his care. But with this young tan gold mouse Stoker was behaving more like a…his grin widened.

More like an over anxious first time parent!

"Well that'll depend on Throttle. There is no time limit on the placement exams. We want to make sure we get it right." Seeing the look on Stoker's face he laughed. "The longest I've ever seen anyone take is four hours. Depending on the age most mice take somewhere between two or three. Don't worry, we'll let you know when he's getting close so you'll have time to get here and pick him up."

Stoker nodded, inexplicably nervous about leaving Throttle here on his own. "Ok." He looked to his ward. "You gonna be alright on your own?"

Walter flicked his ears, pretending to be affronted. "Hey! What do I look like? A worthless bag of fur?"

Stoker arched an eyebrow. "You're not?"

Throttle pasted a smile on his face. "I'll be fine."

His guardian nodded. "Ok, then….um, good luck I guess?"

That brought a genuine chuckle to the younger mouse. "Thanks."

He stood with Walter, watching Stoker leave with Cable, then the two turned and entered the cave. The interior of the cave was made of the same rough hewn red stone as the craggy exterior.

All throughout the room, Throttle could see mice of every age and color gathered together in groups from four to thirteen, all under the supervision of adults.

"This way." Walter whispered softly.

Throttle followed Walt's lead, threading their way through the various groups to reach the sliding door set in the other side of the cave where the stone sank down into the sandy soil.

They were passing one of the larger groups when a white furred mouse twitched an ear and glanced curiously back at them.

His red eyes lit up and a huge smile covered his face. He took a hurried glance at his teacher, and seeing that he was preoccupied, grinned and waved at them. For a moment Throttle was confused. Why would he wave to him? He'd never set eyes on this white furred mouse before. Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention and he understood as Walt waved back.

The mouse hadn't been waving at him at all.

"He a class favorite?" Throttle asked once they were through the sliding door and going down the stairs behind it.

Walt chuckled. "The other youngsters used to claim he was because of who he is, but given how many times the instructors in general and me in particular have had to discipline him that rumor died a quick death."

Throttle cocked his head. "Who is he?"

Walt grinned at him. "He's my son."

"Oh." Remembering what Stoker had said about mice 'not doing only child', and the apparent age of Walt's son, Throttle took a stab in the dark. "He's your eldest then?"

Walt shook his head. "No actually. He's my second. My eldest, Norrin, grew out of school age a few years back." They reached the bottom of the stairs and the white mouse opened one of the two doors in the short hall at the bottom. "In here."

The room Throttle followed him into had shelves cut into the rock, full of books. There were several tables and chairs set up around the room, and a bank of computers was set into another wall to the left. A larger version of the knotted pendant hanging around Walt's neck hung on the far wall. Other than that, there was little else to personalize the space.

"No desks?" Throttle asked, surprised.

"No, this is a place of study." Walt answered. "Besides, the number of teachers has often varied from season to season. It is easier to simply keep tables and chairs in hear than to stock the appropriate number of desks."

The white mouse keyed up one of the computers, quickly bringing up a screen that read "Placement Test". "Do you know how to use a computer?"

Throttle nodded. "Yes, my mother had one in her room. She made sure Alexiana and I knew how to use it."

"Great, have a seat here then. We've had a couple cliff kids who didn't know how so we had to give them the placement test vocally."

The tan gold teen settled himself in the seat and curled his fingers lightly over the keyboard. "What do I do?"

Walt leaned over and keyed in a code. "Just answer the questions to the best of your abilities. If you don't know the answer, take your best guess. The program learns from your mistakes and provides the appropriate material. You'll be put in a learning group based on the results."

He patted Throttle's shoulder. "Good luck."

* * *

Stoker growled, frustrated, and tossed his pen down on the offending paperwork.

He glanced irritably at the clock. A low growl escaped his lips. He'd dropped Throttle off at the school cavern with Walt six hours ago!

He jumped up and paced the length of his office and back. Why hadn't Walt called? Had something gone wrong?

He shook his head. No. Throttle wasn't stupid. If he was being honest, Throttle was probably as intelligent as he was. He stopped.

Being as close to Throttle as he was, he could be a little biased…no, he was certain Throttle was intelligent.

There was a knock on the door, and a moment later a very young private slipped through the door. The emblem on his uniform identified him as a part of communications.

"Sir?"

"Yes private?"

"Sir? Captain Cable sent me to tell you that the breakdown in communications has been corrected."

Stoker stared at him. What had that kid just said? "Communications breakdown?" he repeated. The private nodded. "Why wasn't I informed?"

The private seemed genuinely surprised. "You weren't?" The general gave him a look and he hurriedly averted his gaze, lowering his ears submissively. "Sorry sir."

"It's alright. I don't know who dropped the ball, but it wasn't you." He growled and returned to his desk, rushing through the signing of the last stack of papers. "Cheese! Throttle was probably through with his test hours ago! The poor kid's probably been sittin' there wondering where the heck I am!"

* * *

"So how long have you been living with Stoker?"

Throttle looked at Walt and smiled. He had finished the test some time ago and the two were now seated on the ground outside the school doors waiting for Stoker. "Only a few days. Five to be exact. The granite in my family's cave caught fire, and Stoker was the first on the scene. For some reason I can't quite understand, he took me in." the tan gold teen shook his head and looked to Walt for an answer. "Why did he do it? I'm grateful but…I don't understand. What possible use could General Stoker have for me?"

Walt smiled and leaned back against the rough stone of the school. "I couldn't say for certain Throttle, for the plain and simple reason that I'm not General Stoker." He answered. "But there's one thing I can tell you, it's not because he has some ulterior motive. Stoker's as conniving as a rat when he has to be, but people aren't pawns to him. If he took you in then it's out of a genuine desire to help you."

Throttle flicked his ears. "But why? I'd never met him before that day and as far as I know no one in my family knew him either. I'd seen him around town a couple times but other than that, nothing!" he sighed and rested his chin on his arms.

"I just…I just don't want him to've taken me in out of pity."

Walt smiled and teasingly flicked Throttle with his tail. "Hey. No matter what his reason's were, I'm pretty sure pity wasn't one of them."

"How can you tell?"

"Because you just don't cut a pitiful picture." Walt answered. "Sure I can feel sorry for what happened to you, but there's a difference between pity and feelin' sorry for. You're too smart, to capable to be pitiful. So there's something else that draws old Stoke's to you." He shrugged. "Who knows, maybe you remind him of himself in some weird way."

Throttle smiled. "Maybe."

Walt grinned. "Maybe." He agreed. He suddenly cocked his head and his grin widened. "Speaking of which, here comes your guardian now."

Stoker came flying around the corner on his bike, sliding to a stop only a few feet away. He hurriedly killed the engine and pulled his helmet off.

"Sorry! I know I'm late!"

"Relax!" Walt laughed, getting to his feet. "We tried to talk to the base earlier today and were informed about the breakdown. Throttle and I have been enjoying a nice quiet afternoon out here in the sunlight while we waited for you."

Stoker breathed a sigh of relief and set his helmet on the handlebars of his bike. "Great." Grinning at Throttle he asked, "So how'd he do?"

"Yeah, about that, you mind coming inside where we can talk?"

Stoker frowned. Walt held up his hands reassuringly. "It's nothing bad, I promise. We just need to talk."

"Alright." Stoker dismounted the bike and strode up to the door of the school. He paused for a moment by the door to pat Throttle's shoulder. "You alright cooling your jets out here a little while longer?"

Throttle smiled and nodded.

The two adults entered the school and walked a little ways away from the door so they wouldn't be overheard. Stoker looked around in bemusement, he'd never been here when the school was devoid of students. It felt empty without them.

"So? How'd he do Walt? Must've been bad if your askin' me in here for a private chat."

Walt shook his head vehemently. "Just the opposite in fact. Throttle's very intelligent, and ironically enough he shows promise in some of the same areas you did. He's a leader, and a problem solver. Whether that'll translate out into tactics and strategies, that's another story. But you've got one smart kid on your hands. Given the right encouragement he'll go far. Heck!" Walt snorted. "Even without the right encouragement, he might still go far!"

Stoker grinned. "I knew he was smart!"

Walt nodded. "He is." He agreed. "But he's also confused and, unless I miss my guess, a little scared."

Stoker's grin disappeared in an instant. "Scared? Of what?"

"Well, look at all the changes he's had to adjust to in the past five days!" Walt answered.

Stoker sighed and nodded. "I know. Sometimes…I see him smile, even a little bit, and I feel like I'm doing the best anyone _can _do. But then I wake up to find him thrashing in the bed because he's in the middle of a nightmare and I know for a _fact_ that it's not enough..!"

Walt smiled gripped his friend's shoulders. If he'd had any doubts about Stoker's sincerity where taking care of Throttle was concerned, they were gone now. "Stoke's, all things considered you're two are handling this pretty well for having only been living together for less than a week."

"You think so?"

"I know so." Walt answered. "But I also know it's gonna take time. You're not an old mouse Stoker, but you're army, and the army has a way of setting their mice into a routine. Those habits won't change in the blink of an eye, you're gonna have to work at them. And as for Throttle, he's no pushover. Throttle's strong, and he's got a good head on his shoulders. Once the newness fades off and things settle down, he'll start to feel more sure of himself, unwind a little. Until then, all you can do is the best you can."

Stoker smiled. "A couple of friends his own age wouldn't hurt. Apparently most of the kids on the cliff are a heck of a lot older or younger than he is." A thoughtful look crossed his face. "What about your two boys, weren't they about his age?"

Walt laughed. "Norrin's a few years older than he is, grew out of the learning age already. The other's about a year younger than Throttle." Slinging an arm around Stoker's shoulders he led the way back toward the door.

"You know what?"

"What?"

"The sight of you in over protective parent mode is probably the funniest thing I've seen in ages!" Walt cackled, a downright wicked look on his face.

Stoker gave a playful growl and swatted at his friend, chasing the maniacally laughing white mouse out the door and straight past a very startled tan gold teen. Stoker paid him no mind, closing the distance between them and snagging his friend by his long white tail.

Walt was pulled up short with a startled cry before dissolving into laughter again.

Stoker grinned and jerked the mouse back by the tail, catching him when he stumbled and putting him in a headlock before he could retaliate.

"Alright! Alright! I give!" Walt laughed, flattening his ears back as Stoker rubbed his knuckles into the top of the mouse's head between his antenna's for good measure.

Stoker laughed and released him. "It was good to see you again Walt." He told the white mouse warmly.

"Yep." Walt agreed. "We should get together more often! Maybe take a night out on the town sometime."

Stoker arched an eyebrow. "You that desperate 'teacher'?"

Walt grinned impishly. "Nah, I just miss rough housing."

Chuckling, Stoker motioned for Throttle to climb aboard and mounted his bike. "So set up a field trip for you and the boys Walt. I'm sure we can find some boys who wouldn't mind a tussle or two! You all set back there Throttle?"

"All set Stoker." The tan gold teen's muffled voice answered from inside his helmet. Looking to the white mouse he added, "Thank you sir."

Walter laughed as Stoker's bike roared to life. "You're welcome Throttle. I'll see you next week!" He stepped back as the bike took off in a cloud of dust, waving until they were well out of sight.

"Dad?"

He turned, smiling, as his white furred son came around the corner of the school rock. "Over here."

His son spotted him and a smile lit his face. "Are you coming home soon Dad? Mom's already started dinner." He flicked his ears curiously. "Where's that new kid you were testing?"

Walt gestured to the fading dust cloud. "Stoker came and picked him up. He'll start school next week."

The boy grinned even wider, tail flicking back and forth in excitement. "Cool! Do you think he'd wanna hang out with us?"

"He's quiet and a little shy. You and your friends will just have to wait and see." Walt chuckled and slung an arm around his son's shoulders, leading him back the way he'd come.

"Come on, let's head on home Vincent."

* * *

BEHOLD! The 'velocity atrocity' is at hand!

Review! Or the Plutarkians will plunder the internet of everything Biker Mice and wipe all knowledge of them away!

Until next time...


	7. Secrets

Gah! I owe you guys one epic apology! Life happened in all sorts of 'fun' and 'interesting' ways...

Shout outs to the incredible: Miceaholic, Spades24, and Mayapatch! Cookies to all who are reading and a ride with the mouse of their choice to the three I mentioned.

* * *

ENJOY!

* * *

"So how badly did I do…?"

Stoker glanced over his shoulder at his charge, the wind from their speed roaring in his ears. In his head he made a mental note to berate Walt for making it look so bad by calling Stoker in for a private confab. The kid was convinced he'd screwed up.

"You aced it."

Throttle starred at him in shock. "Then why did Walt talk to you alone?"

"Because that's just how things are done apparently. I won't pretend that I understand it." The older mouse smiled and took his hand off the bike's handlebars, reaching back to pat the side of Throttle's knee. "You did good kid. You did _real_ good."

Throttle smiled, relief showing on his features. Leaning forward, he tiredly rested his head on Stoker's shoulder. "Can we go home now?"

Stoker laughed, elated that Throttle was comfortable enough to think of Stoker's cave as home. "Sure thing…!"

* * *

Eleanor shook her head, clucking her tongue at her daughter as she fussed over Carbine.

How her smart, beautiful daughter could be so accident prone was completely beyond her. "Sit still Carbine, I only need to put in a couple more stitches, then you'll be through."

Carbine made a face and flicked her ears, forcing herself to sit still.

Her boyfriend Brutus had given her a ride home that day, and along the way they'd taken a spill. She had a gash on the right side of her forehead up near her hairline, and even though it was a shallow cut it had bled profusely, scaring the daylights out of her mother when she'd walked in the door with blood streaming down her face.

"There." Eleanor tied it off and nipped the thread, sitting back down on her bathroom stool. "Finished. If you comb your bangs right, no one'll even know it's there."

Carbine nodded, leaning over the bathroom sink and lifting her dark hair out of the way to get a better look at the stitches marring her light brown fur.

"That's ten stitches there little miss." Her mother scolded, cleaning her needle and stowing needle and thread away. "You need to learn to be more careful!"

"Eleanor?" a male voice called from somewhere near the front of the house.

"Oh! Your father's home!" Eleanor hurriedly bustled to the bathroom door, pausing for a moment to cast a concerned look at her daughter. "You _will_ be more careful, won't you Carbine? Please?"

Carbine pasted a smile to her face and nodded. "Yes mom."

Her mother smiled and darted through the door, and off in another part of the house Carbine could hear her welcoming her husband home.

She sighed and slid the door closed, pushing the lock to.

Getting into her mother's medicine cabinet, she pulled out the salve her mother used on bruises and the quietly rolled up her sleeve. The large, livid bruise showed up very well through the thinner fur of her inner arm. She'd have to wear long sleeves till it healed.

She glanced at the door as she rubbed the salve in, ears straining for any sound of her mother returning.

Her mother thought she got hurt a lot.

"You have no idea mom…"

* * *

I'm back on track now, so hopefully my updating schedule will get back to normal (crosses fingers).

Review!

Until next time...


	8. First Day Of School

(cowers in fear of the readers wrath for her tardiness) ...please don't kill me...

Shout out's to the supercalifragilisticexpialidocious: Miceaholic, Mayapatch, and Swimchickvic! Cookies to you guys!

* * *

ENJOY!

* * *

"There are so many…"

Stoker gave a sympathetic smile when he heard the younger mouse's comment. They were standing by his bike outside the school rock watching as the various students streamed in from all directions, laughing and joking as they greeted their teachers and entered the school.

"There's about the same amount as there was last week, give or take a few. You saw them all the last time you were here. What's the difference?"

Throttle flicked his ear uncertainly. "Yeah but…they were all sitting in groups before, and most of them just ignored me. Now they're all up and moving, it feels like there's a whole lot more of them."

Stoker nodded. "It does." He agreed. "Got your lunch?"

Throttle nodded, holding up the small bag Stoker had stuffed with some random things that morning before the two of them had rushed out the door. He sincerely hoped that whatever Stoker had packed, it was edible! "Yeah."

"And you know your way home?" Stoker checked, just to be sure. He had to work well into the evening, and Throttle was going to have to walk home on his own. The two had driven the route several times over the weekend to make sure he knew the way.

Throttle laughed. "Yes sir, I know the way!"

Stoker patted his shoulder, overlooking the 'sir'. "Just take a deep breath and push on. You'll be fine." He smiled. "Have some fun today..."

"I will."

* * *

"Man, what'd you do to yourself?"

Carbine sighed, mentally berating herself. She'd gone to brush her bangs back out of her eyes, and her friend Elba had seen it. The apricot colored mouse was now giving her a suspicious glare.

"Don't look at me like that. It seems like you're always sporting a bruise. Every time I turn around you've got a new one. So spill. How'd you hurt yourself." Elba put her hands on her hips.

Carbine rolled her eyes. "Seriously Elba? You're worse than my mother!" she huffed irritably. "It was just a biking accident."

"How many stitches?" Elba answered.

"Ten." Carbine groaned. She settled herself on one of the student floor mats. "Now if you're done with the twenty questions..?"

"Carbine! Elba! You gotta see this guy!"

The two girls raised their heads, ears pricking forward as they turned towards the newcomer. Her name was Daehria, and she was covered from head to toe in pale blonde fur. Long, slightly darker blond hair cascaded in waves around her shoulders, held back out of her face with a headband.

The two girls smiled. Daehria was a sweetheart, and they loved her to death. But she was a simple soul and known to be something of an airhead.

"What is it now 'Ria'?" Elba laughed. "You don't have a new crush do you?"

"Very funny!" The blonde hurried to a stop in front of them and looped her arm around Elba's shoulders, turning and pointing back the way she'd come. "I know I completely stink at faces, but you _can't_ tell me that's not the new kid! No way would I have missed _that_ much hotness walking around!"

Carbine and Elba followed her pointing finger, and their eyes alighted on a somewhat hesitant Throttle standing near the door. His ruby red eyes were scanning the crowd, as if searching for someone he knew.

Elba's jaw dropped open a little. "Ria…I totally take back what I said about you having bad eye sight. He is a _total_ babe!"

Carbine rolled her eyes. "Good lord… Close your mouths, you're gonna start drooling all over yourselves."

The two girls turned, giving her affronted looks. "You _can't _tell me you don't think he's hot!" Ria exclaimed, Elba nodding in affirmative.

Carbine sighed, standing and stepping past them to scrutinize Throttle for a moment before turning back to face her friends. "Yes. He's attractive. But he's not the sculpted god you girls are making him out to be! Get a grip, you two are acting like…" she trailed off, frowning as her friends eyes grew wide.

"Carbine?"

She froze. She only knew one mouse with that smoky sort of quality to his voice. "Cheese." She muttered under her breath and turned. Sure enough, standing behind her was Throttle. Her luck was absolutely the worst in the world. "How long have you been standing there?"

He offered up a shy smile, the smile she was beginning to associate with him alone. "Only just now." He answered. "It's good to see you again."

Behind her, Carbine could practically _hear _her friend's jaws dropping open. She smiled. "It's good to see you too. How are you settling in with Uncle Stoker?"

Again, that shy smile graced his features. "As well as anyone can expect, I guess. Stoker is certainly…"

She grinned. "Eccentric?"

He flicked his ears uncertainly. "…different. But I think I'm beginning to understand a bit better." Looking past her, he frowned in concern. "Is your friend ok?"

"Huh?" Carbine turned. Elba had managed to get herself under control, but Ria was still standing there, mouth hanging open a little and her eyes wide as saucers.

Realizing that they were staring at her, concerned, Ria hurriedly shut her mouth with a slight click of teeth. "Y-yeah, I'm fine."

Throttle nodded, relaxing a little. "Good."

"So." Elba eyed Carbine. "Carbine didn't tell us she'd met the new kid." She stuck out her hand. "Name's Elba. What's your name?"

"Throttle." He clasped her hand warmly, then looked to Ria. "And your name?"

"Oh!" she hurriedly clasped his hand, stumbling over herself in her excitement. "My name's D-Daehria. Pleased to meet you…Friends call me Ria!" she added hurriedly at the end.

"You the new kid?" a gruff, deeper voice asked.

A massive arm wrapped around her shoulders, making Carbine jump. She turned, smacking at the burly mouse standing behind her, the male a full head taller than she was. "Brutus! Don't scare me like that!"

Brutus ignored her. "I'm her boyfriend." He stated simply, tail flicking restlessly back and forth as he warily eyed the newcomer.

Throttle looked at the mouse in surprise. He might have been sheltered up on the cliffs, but if there was one thing every cliff kid was good at, it was reading body language. Brutus body language said that he was just spoiling for a fight. And Throttle couldn't understand why Brutus felt threatened. He'd only said hello to Carbine, it wasn't like he was overtly trying to steal her affections away from this burly older male. He wasn't a threat!

For a moment, Throttle picked up a more defensive attitude.

But then the memories flooded back. Rough hands holding him down while others hit him. The smell of blood and smoke and sweat in the air, the taste of it in his mouth. The sound of raucous laughter in his ears. He let the defensive body language fall away. He didn't want trouble. He'd had enough trouble to last for a lifetime.

"Pleased to meet you." Throttle answered politely. "My name's Throttle." He offered his hand, silently hoping that the other male would read the non-combative stance Throttle had taken and bury the hatchet here and now.

Brutus' eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the smaller tan gold teen. "Brutus." He answered, completely ignoring Throttle's friendly gesture. "You better watch your step." He turned and stalked away, tail angrily flicking back and forth and ears laid back flat.

Throttle shook his head as he watched the older boy leave, then looked to Carbine. He smiled to soften his words. "No offense or anything, but I don't think your boyfriend likes me."

Elba snorted. "He doesn't _like_ anyone. He just tolerates some better than others. Honestly Carbine, I don't know how you put up with that big lummox!"

Ria nodded in agreement.

Carbine sighed, wondering the same thing herself. "With lots and lots of care and patience." She answered tiredly.

"Throttle!"

They all looked up to see an instructor coming their way. Smiles lit their faces when they realized it was Walt. The white pelted male was a favorite among the students, and they often went to him, whether they were in his learning group or not.

"There you are." Walt said grinning. "I was on the lookout for you! Must've missed you at the door. Ready for your first day of school?"

Throttle nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be." He answered, some of his previous nervousness showing through.

Walt chuckled. "Don't worry about it, you'll be fine." Nodding to Carbine he added. "Making new friends?"

"Sort of." Throttle answered.

Carbine chuckled. "We've already met once." She explained. "Uncle Stoker brought him over to my house last week to meet me and Mom."

"Ah." Walt grinned. "Well that's a bit of good luck."

Throttle cocked his head. "Sir?"

Walt gestured at Carbine. "You've been assigned to the same learning group as Carbine. Carbine, if you'd be kind enough to show Throttle the ropes I'd appreciate it. It'd let me get back to my own group."

Elba's ears pricked up in surprise. "Why not have Vinnie show him around? He's been geeking out ever since he heard we were getting a new student."

Walt shook his head, a rueful grin on his face. "Can't. I would, but I can't. Vinnie's home in bed. He and a couple friends tried to pull some hair brained scheme or other over the weekend, I'm still not entirely sure what they thought they were doing. But either way it earned them one of the best cases of food poisoning I've _ever_ seen. They won't be leaving their beds anytime today, much less coming to school!"

The girls giggled at that. "_Why_ am I not surprised?" Elba tittered.

"I'll be happy to show him around." Carbine informed Walt, grinning. He thanked her, wished Throttle luck, and left. They watched him leave, then Carbine laughed and hooked her elbow with Throttles, pulling him away through the milling crowd of kids. "Come on, I'll show you were our group meets. We've got Elder Boron as our instructor."

Throttle gave her a nervous look. "Elder? And I hope the name isn't a bit of foreshadowing…"

Carbine laughed. "Elder is the respectful title for a teacher, or instructor here." She explained. "And no, the name is _not_ a foreshadowing."

* * *

Throttle sighed, breathing in a deep breath of the free air.

School had gone by relatively quickly for him. He'd found that in some ways it was very much like his mother's home school. All material was given verbally by the instructor, no books. Examples were displayed on small slate stone tablets with chalk, and they were worked out by students on similar tablets. Larger mouse cities used higher tech teaching aids, but in places like this where there was a good chance the poorer cliff kids would be attending stone tablets were the norm since they could be home made.

There were no tables or chairs. Everyone, including the instructor, sat on the floor on thick soft mats. The only instructor in the room who had a chair was the female mouse who taught most of the exceptionally young mice. Her pelt was silvered with age, and her old bones couldn't handle sitting on the floor anymore. She was the school's sand storm warning, as the joints of her hands ached when one started to billow up.

His learning group was one of the smaller ones.

According to his fellow classmates, that was because his group was composed of the advanced students. There was himself, Carbine, their instructor, and five other students of varying ages. That was all.

They broke several times throughout the day to give the students and instructors a break, the longest being the noonday break for lunch. The learning groups were allowed to mingle, and there were areas inside and out for the mice to play if they chose. Throttle made a point of acquainting himself with each member of his learning group but just like on the cliffs, he found the younger mice drawn to him, and him to them. If he wasn't with Carbine and her friends, he was playing with the younger mice.

Brutus watched it all in silence and growing jealousy and hatred.

There was one last session after the meal break, and then the students were released to go home. That last session was all the time needed for Brutus to plan and initiate an attack on Throttle.

Throttle smiled as he stepped out of the school rock. He was free.

"Yeah, that's him. The one from the cliffs."

Or not.

Throttle stopped and turned towards the voice, pricking his ears in curiosity. He'd found throughout the day that many of the children here had never met someone from the cliffs, thus he was a source of curiosity.

But he highly doubted that this voice was discussing him for curiosity's sake.

Brutus smirked at him from the corner of his eye, but pretended not to pay attention. "My dad's one of the one's who went in." he said nonchalantly to those who were listening. "The caves cooled down enough for a search team to get in last night. My dad, and Generals Saber and Stoker and some others. Dad said they found a couple of bodies in there."

The words hit Throttle harder than any blow could've. Someone had gone into his cave and found a couple of bodies…

"He said it looked like they got themselves caught trying to get out." Brutus went on. "They could've made it if _someone _had gone in and helped them. But it looks like he's the only one who was able to drag himself out."

One of the other young mice gave Throttle a disparaging look. "You mean he just crawled out and left them?" he exclaimed.

"Filthy rat." Another snarled venomously. "Leaving his mom and sis to die in the fire."

They were coming closer, surrounding him. Throttle shook his head, feeling as though the smoke from that fire was still clouding his brain. "No…"

Brutus was suddenly towering over him. "No, what?" he growled mockingly.

Throttle shook his head again, desperately trying to beat his reeling thoughts back into some semblance of order. "No…" he said again. "They can't have been in there… I looked for them everywhere. I even checked under the beds… They _can't_ have been in there!"

That was the opening Brutus had been waiting for. He drew himself up to his full height, pinning his ears back against his head, dark brown fur bristling. "You calling my dad a liar?" he snarled, tail lashing the ground.

Throttle felt like all he was capable of doing anymore was shaking his head.

A sharp flash of insight seared through his brain and intelligent ruby red eyes flashed up to meet Brutus's. "Who were they?" he asked.

Brutus frowned, his tail stilling in his surprise and perplexity. "What?"

Throttle's voice steadied a little as his mind found some stable footing and righted itself again. "You said they found a couple bodies in the cave. So who's bodies did they find?"

Brutus glared down at the smaller male, frustrated. His father had only told his mother that two bodies had been found. If he'd said anything about whose bodies they were, Brutus hadn't overheard.

Throttle nodded, reading the silence for what it was. Around him, he could feel the anger and indignation fading from the rest of his classmates as uncertainty set in. "Get your facts straight before you run around accusing people of leaving their families to die."

He turned and calmly walked away, the mice that had surrounded him parting to let him through.

"They were in your cave." Brutus snarled after Throttle, trying to salvage the situation. "Two bodies found charred to a crisp in the same cave your mother and sister were last seen in. Who else could they be?"

He was once more looming over the tan gold mouse, and a smirk tugged at his lips as he waited for the smaller mouse to try and squirm his way out of this one. He should've known better. Throttle had his pride, just like any other male mouse on the planet. But he was also honest.

This mouse didn't 'squirm' out of anything.

"I don't know." Throttle answered, not in the least bit perturbed by the larger mouse's proximity. "But I do know my mother and sister. You said it looked like they'd gotten themselves caught trying to get out. My mother and sister could've walked that cave blindfolded if they had to. I don't know who it was the search team found, but seeing as I'm living with General Stoker and he's one of the mice who was there, I'm going to go home and ask him. I'll be happy to compare notes with you tomorrow if you like."

He gave a polite nod to Brutus, waved goodbye to Carbine and her friends, and turned and walked away.

Brutus glared after him, trembling with fury at having been dismissed in such a way. With the exception of a few of his cronies, the rest of Brutus' impromptu mob quietly drifted away, either heading for home or joining the group of kids waiting for their parents to come pick them up.

"You going to just let him walk away?" one of his cronies asked curiously.

Brutus snarled, tail lashing. "No." he stormed off in the direction his small quarry had gone, but it quickly became apparent that he'd lost him.

"Don't worry about it." one of the others assured him. "We'll get him tomorrow."

Brutus bared his teeth. "You can count on it…"

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Stoker looked up, startled by the cold tones of his ward's voice. He'd only just gotten home and was hanging up his jacket when Throttle had stepped into the room and asked his question. Stoker took a moment to size up the younger male. He was pretty sure he could wipe the floor with Throttle if it came down to it, but he really didn't want to resort to that.

Throttle was just standing there, hands hanging loosely at his sides.

To all outward appearances, he looked calm. But the icy cold tone of his voice and the hurt and anger in his eyes left nothing to the imagination. Something had happened, and it had brought out the fighting side of the quiet boy Stoker had come to know with a vengeance.

Stoker calmly hung up his satchel. "Why didn't I tell you about what?" he asked, having to work at not slipping into his General Stoker mode. Throttle wasn't one of the raw army recruits Stoker had to deal with on a regular basis, nor was this the army base. Throttle was the teenager he had taken into his care and this was his home. There was no room for army protocols here.

"That you and a search party were going into my cave last night." Throttle answered.

Stoker repressed a wince. Right. _That._ He wasn't entirely sure how the teen had found out. He'd been careful to wash the scent of burning granite out of his fur before going to bed, so there was no way the teen had smelled it on him when he woke the next morning, Throttle would've definitely called him out on that. And he'd stashed the clothes at the bottom of the hamper.

Had Throttle found them?

He gestured to the couch. "Have a seat and we'll talk about it." Throttle quietly complied, taking the end opposite Stoker and turning so that he faced him. "How did you find out?" Stoker asked.

Throttle flinched, his eyes skating away from Stoker's. "Kids at school." He answered after a moment. "Kids of the mice who went in. They said the search party turned up a pair of bodies… why didn't you take me with you? I know the cave, I could've helped."

Stoker nodded, settling himself more comfortably. "You could've." He agreed, relieved that this wasn't a territorial issue. The cave technically was Throttle's now. "But none of us wanted you to be there with the first team. Even Saber agreed with us on that. Taking you in on the first search was out of the question."

Throttle stared at him, hurt written clearly across his face. "But _why_?"

Stoker fixed the younger mouse with his gaze. "Tell me, what's the last memory you have of your mother and little sister?"

Throttle hesitated, confused by the sudden change of topic. But he answered after a moment. "It was after lunch that day. Mother wanted me to take some food to one of our neighbors. An older mouse who'd been sick. Alexiana wanted to go with me, but she hadn't finished her lessons yet and mother said no." He chuckled. "She's easily distracted. Always drawing little pictures of things she sees on the slate tablets instead of working out the problems mother gave her."

Stoker turned himself farther in his seat to face his charge more directly. "Now." He said calmly. "Suppose you'd come with us last night? And suppose you'd found their bodies? What would your last memory of them have been?" Throttle was silent, and Stoker nodded in satisfaction. "Now you understand?"

Throttle nodded. He quietly drew his knees up against his chest, resting his chin on his arms. "So… the two bodies you found were theirs?"

Stoker snorted, surprising the teen. "I highly doubt it." Seeing Throttle's confusion, he grinned. "How old's your sister? And about how tall's your mother?"

Throttle took a moment to think about it. "Mother is about Miss Eleanor's size, maybe an inch shorter. Alexiana's little, she's only six. She was going to turn seven next week." He chuckled. "Even for a six year old she's small. She used to complain about it until she realized that she could get into places the rest of us couldn't. Playing hide and seek with her always turned into the mouse hunt of the century."

Stoker patted Throttle's arm. "Well kid, both of the bodies we found were adults. Could we've missed your sister? As small as you claim she is, it's a possibility, but we were pretty thorough. And both bodies had more masculine builds and were carrying all sorts of weapons, so I doubt either of them were your mother." He shrugged. "Offhand, I'd say they were rats. What they were doing raiding your home is beyond me, but that's the only explanation I can come up with."

Throttle's ears pricked up, his tail flicking in growing excitement. "Rats? So there's a chance they could still be alive?"

"There is." Stoker agreed. "Now ask me how slim the chances of us finding them are."

Throttle blanched. "I'm not sure I want to…"

The older mouse nodded understandingly. "I know. And it's not hopeless, just slim. I've sent out word to the military's Rescue Divisions to be on the lookout for them, but I'm going to need your help. The better a description we can pass along the line, the easier their job will be. The best would be if we had a picture of them, but I'd imagine any photos you would've had were in the fire, right?"

Throttle's face was pensive. "Maybe." He answered slowly. "But I think I know someone else who might have one stashed away somewhere."

"Someone up on the cliffs?" Stoker asked.

Throttle shook his head, grinning. "A little bit closer than that." He answered. "He owns a shop here in town…"

* * *

Next chapter, the velocity atrocity is back to whip tail, and he's bringing a gentle giant with him! And Carbine's friends were inspired by some of my school friends. Come on people, admit it, everyone knows at least one if not multiple chicks like this!

Review!

Until next time...


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